Synonyms of Getting Here
by PurifiedDrinkingWater
Summary: 1987 was an exciting year for the United Kingdom. Their Prime Minister, one Margaret Thatcher, had been re-elected, making her the longest, continuously serving Prime Minister since Lord Liverpool himself; and it was the year Rick Astley was "Never Gonna Give You Up". But 1987 was especially exciting for the freshly started Fitz family. Fitz: From birth to Season 1. FitzSimmons
1. Chapter 1:Bitter Beginnings

**A/N: I sure do love Fitz, and I just really wanted to know about his life before SHIELD. So I decided to write it. This first chapter is just a tester. If, after you have finished, you like it. Favorite it and/or review, and I'll update for you!**

1987 was an exciting year for the United Kingdom. Their Prime Minister, one Margaret Thatcher, had been re-elected, making her the longest, continuously serving Prime Minister since Lord Liverpool himself; and the year Rick Astley was "Never Gonna Give You Up".

But 1987 was especially exciting for the freshly started Fitz family.

Leopold Bernard Fitz was born one cold, December night in Edinburgh, Scotland. His first home was nothing more than a small apartment building on the edge of town. His mother and father were proud of their first-born, and decided to name the boy Leopold, after his grandfather, who had died a month prior his birth. Leopold would eventually come to resent the name, after being teased in primary school. After that, he always introduced himself as Leo, and even later, as Fitz.

Leo's early childhood was mostly uneventful, other than his brief outbreak of Fifth disease. The symptom of a deep blush commonly associated with the disease seemed to stay with Leo well into his teen years. His curly hair was in full bloom by age two, and his light blue eyes could stare up at yours and receive almost anything they wanted, without even quivering a lip. He mastered this skill by age five, and his mother worked up no defense towards the attacks.

"Mummy, did you see 'dat toy car? I sure would like it." There was hardly a moment of hesitation before the toy car was promptly added to the shopping cart.

The one thing Leopold Fitz could never recover with a look from his oceanic blue eyes was his father.

Killed in a car accident on his way home from work, Darius Fitz left his only son fatherless. Five-year old Leopold sat very still at the funeral. He was the best behaved boy there. His mother stared forward, her eyes vacant, as if there were nothing left to look at. Leopold was sitting still just for her, but she would not notice him. His grandmother noticed, his father's friends noticed, the rest of the funeral procession noticed. They told him so, when they shook his hand to leave, and told the little Mr. Fitz they would bring him some food, because he was the only one to listen. His mother just stared, on the verge of tears the entire time, but never spilled a single one. Until they got home. She cried for five whole days.

Leo's grandmother visited him every day, to make sure he was fed, and traced his letters and learned his alphabet. His mother still did not notice how still he sat for her. That's when it started. Leo couldn't hold it in any longer; he began to fidget all the time. His grandmother would scold him when he was unable to stay at the dinner table without stacking the salt and pepper shakers or drumming his fork. She would then send him to his room, where he would disassemble a certain toy car he had once coerced from his mother, back when she would pay attention to him. He reassembled the car almost as quickly. He continued in this way for many days. Sent to his room after being rambunctious at dinner, disassembled the car, reassemble. Disassemble. Reassemble. Destroy. Create. Tear apart. Rebuild.

Leo always felt his best rebuilding his toy than tearing it apart. When he became overly-familiar with the car, he moved on to other objects in his room. His robot action figures, lamp, and even his cassette player were all victim to his demolition. Putting the aforementioned cassette player back together proved difficult for the little boy, and was not accomplished fully until the second grade.

This was how the two-person Fitz family coped. She stared. He destroyed. She stared. He created.


	2. Chapter 2:Hallway Hooligans

Now, Leopold's life was not a tragedy, by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, this was the only time in his childhood he felt truly, deeply sad. The next time he would feel the same amount of distress would happen many years later, and involved an ejection pod, which was supposed to float; a friend, who was supposed to care about him; and a girl, who was supposed to leave him behind and save herself.

His happiest years were those spent in primary school. Sure, he faced the brutality of other young humans, trying to find their way to the top of the pecking order, but that didn't stop him from having the time of his life with his next-door neighbor and soon-to-be best friend: Douglas Ferguson.

He and Doug shared the hobby of taking things apart. Sitting in the narrow hallway of their apartment, Doug would take things apart, and Leo would put them back together. Sometimes pieces would be lost on the busy red carpet lining the hallway, and Doug and Leo would search for them for long stretches of time, at least it seemed like a long time, only to discover Leo was holding the piece, or Doug was sitting on it.

"Doug!" Leo exclaimed, "Stop losing the pieces. I can't do my work properly with your fat butt on the pieces." They both laughed. Not that it was a joke. Douglas was, in plainest terms, fat. And Leo very well could not perform his part of the game with Douglas's rump on the parts.

"I have an idea for a new game.' Doug mentioned one day, after similar discourse had passed between the boys when a part went missing. "I saw it on the telly, it was an advert for a sort of 'walkie-talkie', but it could also send instant messages—like we can with the computers at the library. I think we should try to make one of those."

"That does sound like quite a challenge." Fitz pondered the idea for a bit. "But I think we could make it work! It will have to be electric, right? Well, I think we could—" On he went, his mind flying with ideas, no matter how ill-informed. This is how he ended up sticking the fork in an electrical socket. Leo collapsed to the floor and tossed his hands over his head in surrender.

"How does that work with lamps?"

"I don't know. Maybe the plastic bit helps?"

This statement is what led to the shorting out of the electricity to the entire building, after sticking the fork in the socket yet again, but with the aforementioned "plastic bit".

"Well that wasn't it."

" 'Aven't I never told you not to stick metal into the electric sockets, Douglas David Ferguson?" The frightening Mrs. Ferguson yelled at her son as she dragged him next door, her steel grip cutting off the circulation in Doug's arm below the elbow.

"Mum, I promise"

"Ooh, stop your havering!"

"I didn't know!" But his arguments were cut short by the slamming of the neighboring door. They argued through the walls to Leo's apartment. Where his gran shook her head at him and his mother stared. He took a bath, and as he soaked, though about how the toy would have worked, had the electricity situation been solved. His mind raced with the possibilities of having his very own spy gear that he could carry with him to school, and talk to Doug with while everyone else was listening to boring lectures on things Fitz assumed he already knew.

During the beginning of the school year, when Leo was not shorting out the electricity in the entire building or day-dreaming about his electronic feat; he read. Fantasy, adventure, mystery, biography, DIY, and crash courses on electricity, with words beyond his comprehension, filled his self-inflicted sleepless nights, and pushed his homework into the sidelines. His grandmother would come to his house after school, and force him to stay at the table long enough to finish his school work, which he always flew through. He always obtained nearly perfect marks, and the questions he missed were merely silly mistakes caused by rushing through his work. The only subject he couldn't seem to master was handwriting.

There were so many silly rules in this particular portion of the day. There was only one way to hold your pencil, one place to start your letters, one direction they should slant, and one line they had to stay on. Leo couldn't even think about next year, the third grade, when they would have to start learning cursive. His books were the "only thing that kept him sane." He remarked to Douglas, on their way home from school.

"At least you have that. I have nothing to keep me sane. Mum is always nagging me." A pause, indicating no sign of empathy from Leo, settled over the boys. "You know, I got into a lot of trouble for playing with the electric." Douglas remarked angrily, kicking a pebble from the sidewalk, and into the street. The hot tar on the road covering the cracks swirled on the pavement like sloppy signatures. The old buildings on either side of the road shaded the boys' walk in late summer heat. Evidence of fall peaked through the trees; their bright green leaves now a dull greenish-yellow. Some leaves had already given up for the season, dropping off the branches in clusters, still slightly green, but crisp from the sun's intense stare.

"It was supposed to work! I read about how metal is a con… conductor" He struggled to say the word he had only ever read, and never heard aloud.

"A what?"

"That means electricity can go through it, somehow." He sighed when he realized Douglas didn't understand. "Sometimes, I feel like I am the only person I can have an intelligent conversation with."

They walked home.


	3. Chapter 3:Gross Girls

As the two progressed with their re-invention, Mrs. Ferguson noticed that she couldn't find her old portable CD player, and the Fitz family saw an absence of an old radio from Leo's room. Thankfully, both investigations were promptly forgotten, and the two boys remained innocent builders of extraordinary things.

After many failed experiments, re-assemblages, and two more electric shocks, the dynamic inventing duo finally produced an adequate walkie-talkie in their fourth grade year. However, it was unable to send text messages, but they didn't mind. This was the coolest thing they had ever done. There were many late nights spent in their own rooms talking over their walkie-talkies.

"D—this is Agent Fitz calling, do you read me?"

"Loud and clear, Agent." This was a lie, however. The walkie-talkies actually had a very grainy and muffled quality.

"What did you get on your math test today, Agent Doug?"

"Twenty-five out of thirty, sir. Yourself?"

"Thirty out of –"

"Thirty? I figured. You are quite near to genius."

"I know…" Leo beamed. He wasn't a snob about his brains, but he sure wasn't humble, either.

"I was thinking, next year, when we are in the fifth grade, we should add another member to our team."

"Who did you have in mind? We both have to approve of him."

"Well… it isn't really a him…"

"A girl?! You want to have a girl help us?"

"Well, she's really smart. Probably as smart as you, even."

"I would rather work with a monkey than work with a girl." Leo concluded, and hung up his walkie-talkie for the night.

* * *

"Come on, Leo, just think about it. Moira could make a great addition to the team." Douglas argued with his friend. "She is really smart. I bet she's first—"

"Second. She is defiantly second. Maybe lower."

"Does it matter?" Doug countered.

"Doug, you need to think about this reasonably. There are only two jobs. Taking things apart and putting them back together. _So _unless you are proposing that Moira take _your_ job, you could have not further argument."

"Oh, you're daft." Douglas tried again, "Don't we need someone to fetch tools?"

"That's where the monkey comes in." Backing down was not an option. Leo kept his position rather firmly.

The argument ended, they moved on to their most recent project. This particular project was a favor called for by their mothers. They claimed that they needed a way to know exactly what groceries where in the apartment, and in what quantities. Leo and Douglas accepted the challenge instantly. It proved to be difficult, but they were managing. Using a scientific calculator as the base and attempting to reprogram the buttons to perform different functions, they worked on their hardest project to date. Fitz read many books on circuit boards, despite his limited vocabulary with the subject and Doug used his father's all-sized manual screwdriver to tear things apart, with the utmost caution.

The hallway between flats had small pieces all over the busy carpet.

The driven doublet Ferguson/Fitz lost every screw.

**A/N: Thanks for the small group of followers applied to this story! I encourage you to leave a review on how I might better write Fitz and his life! Constructive criticism is encouraged, and Flames are to be extinguished. If you hate my fic that much, go review one of my "flame approved" parodies. **


	4. Chapter 4:New Names

"It needs a name."

Much to their mothers' surprise, Leo and Douglas had done it. They had more or less, but mostly less, constructed a device to assist their mothers in keeping track of the groceries. And now, this magnificent invention needed a name, according to Leo.

"Grocery-inator?" Douglas offered, but Leo shook his head.

"Too obvious."

"Sort-A-Grocery…. 1000"

"Too awkward."

"Grocery-tron 3000?"

"Too juvenile."

"I don't even know what _juvenile _means!" Douglas said, as he slumped against the hallway wall.

"It doesn't matter, just not that name…" Pondering further, Leo said, "The Mr. Grocer?"

"I don't know, that sounds too much like Mr. Clean." He sighed, "Does it even need a name?"

"Yes! What is it without a name? How will we pitch it to investors? What will the packaging say?" Leo scoffed, "Wha—'Does it need a name'. Of course!"

"Fine, fine, don't get your pants in a twist." A pause, and then, "The Shopper?"

"That might work…" Douglas had to do a double take, Leo had actually agreed to one!

"Really? Okay, that's it, let's keep it!" He jumped up and snatched the device from Leo's hand. They had agreed that Douglas would write the name, since he had better handwriting. He pulled the Sharpie from his pocket, uncapping it, he said, "Okay, just checking, but we want this name, right, 'The Shop Keeper'?"

"Uh… well…"

"3-2-1, sold. It's our name." Douglas hurriedly turned the old calculator over and wrote the name in large, bold script.

**The ShopKeeper**

** By Leopold Fitz and Douglas Ferguson **

"Here it is!" Douglas handed it to Fitz, who beamed at the product.

"Well, what are we waiting for, let's use it!" Leo leaned facetiously to Doug, and wiggled his eyebrows "My kitchen or yours?"

"Yours. Mine just has microwave meals."

The machine worked well for about six months, before the circuits burned out, from performing functions it was not used to, at which point, Fitz read even more books on circuit boards and other engineering feats. He, with inconsequential help from Doug, invented considerably more than either matriarch had anticipated- and singed off more hair than necessary. Naming the product became the highlight for Doug. They came up with inventions for every menial task. The _Scrubber _was a rough contraption that sat by the Ferguson's toilet and made an extraordinarily loud _whirr _every time someone flushed the toilet; the robot called _Bar Keeper's Friend _rolled across the Fitz's counter-tops, keeping the surface clean of crumbs, but leaving streaks of grease; and _T.I.N.T_, _Tactical Interior Tidier, _robot and vacuum cleaner, this electrical and mechanical fete only knocked over two lamps. They couldn't think of anything for the N, so they just left it in… they couldn't very well have a robot named…

Well, _that._

**AN: Sorry I haven't updated in a week. I was on vacation. I had a Fitz moment, though. I bought a Monte Cristo sandwich in New Orleans**_, _**but it was very hot outside and I was dehydrated and so I just packed it up and went back to the hotel. But I had to throw it away because I couldn't drive eight hours with it. : (**


	5. Chapter 5:Desolating Drama

**AN: Since this is supposed to be "Scottish" ( I am American, so I probably don't write it very well) football is soccer, just so you know. And I use some Scottish slang in this chapter, so if you want to know what it means, just look it up. If I told you here it would spoil the chapter. ;) Also, please review, I am feeling rather discouraged. **

Leopold Fitz was not afraid of girls.

He told himself this every day in middle school when Doug was off talking with Moira, the assistant proposed for the boys two years ago. No longer the plush boy he used to be, Doug became rather popular. His fun personality and easy manners made boys and girls alike flock to him. Doug had even joined the minor league football team, abandoning most of his time spent inventing with Fitz.

Leo reassured himself he was not afraid of girls when Leslie came up to talk to him. She wanted to know if Doug liked Moira. He answered plainly and with a deep blush, "How would I know?!"

"Well you're his best friend, aren't you?"

"I—I think s-so, but…" Fitz stammered off as she stared a little too intently at him. He held his breath.

"Oh, you're duff!" She stomped off in the direction of her giggling friends. Leo went to turn to Doug, but he, too, was with a gaggling bunch of girls. Leo, defeated, walked alone to his next class, Reading. Leo considered himself an expert in this class, and therefor paid little attention. He flipped through his notebook of successful re-inventions, and unsuccessful personal inventions. He had but one functioning invention of his own, and with much determination, and many disregarded classes, he reconstructed a working product.

The class ended sooner than he wanted it too, as he would have to face the hallways by himself. He walked to his locker to return his things before he left for the day. On his way, he saw Doug. Smiling, Leo walked up to his friend, who was, for once, away from all the girls. Doug waved.

Or so Leo thought.

The next moment happened so fast, Leo didn't know if it was real or not. Douglas, his long-time friend and co-inventor of the worst walkie-talkie ever, shoved past Leo. Doug's bulky shoulder slammed into Leo's smaller frame, and scattered his books across the floor. Leo stood, shell shocked for several moments, before turning to look at Doug.

"Sorry, Bro. Didn't see you there." Doug was kind enough to help Leo to his feet. The other boys from the football team were gathered at the scene.

"Come on, mate. You ain't hanging around with this jobby jabber anymore, right?" One of the boys known as Andrew, said. Leo recoiled from the insult.

"Well… I mean…" Doug stammered; confliction in his head and heart. Should he choose his childhood friend, or the chance to be popular and well liked? He enjoyed Leo… most of the time… But Doug liked his new friends more. It wasn't an easy decision, but Doug hardened his heart and said, as casually as he could manage, "Yeah, what a wanker."

Leo watched as Doug walked away, his new friends murmuring under their breath at Leo.

"Fag."

"Wallaper."

Leo gathered his notebook, abandoning the rest of his things on the floor, and rushed from the building. He ran as fast as his stout legs would take him. Out of the school campus, towards the center of town, he found himself in a library. Leo moved promptly to the bathroom, and locked himself in a stall.

He cried.


	6. Chapter 6:Forgiving (ex)Friends

Leo's grandmother, a kind, widowed lady, became his caretaker while his mother was… _out of commission, _for lack of a better word. She taught him many of the principles he carried into later life. Including forgiveness. This proved most important after Doug broke Fitz trust and his heart. He wondered why he should forgive Doug. His words and actions left an unbearable weight in Fitz's chest, right where his heart should be.

For a while, Leo denied it. It hadn't happened. He walked the short distance from his flat to Doug's every day for a week, and asked Mrs. Ferguson if he could see him. Unfortunately, Doug was out with his 'other friends'. Then, Mrs. Ferguson rudely suggested that "You ought to find other friends, Leopold." Rushing away, Leo found his own home empty, his recuperated mother at work, and his grandmother at the grocery store. In his solitude, Leo found more time to read his engineering books and draw out sketches for new designs, while simultaneously harboring his hurt.

But hurt turned to anger, and anger turned to hate.

One day, after being reprimanded for not completing his chores before he read, he said to his grandmother, "I _hate _you!" And hurried to his bedroom to find solace in his books, but his books had nothing to offer him, and he hurtled them across the room, breaking down into tears. After much silence, his grandmother dared to enter his room.

"Leo?" She said gently, he fragile and wrinkled hands reaching out for his. "Leo, you need to calm down, and then we need to talk." Her calm demeanor and soft words helped him sync his breathing with her steady breath. He wiped his eyes.

"I am sorry gramsy, I don't really hate you."

"I know, honey, I know. But you do hate that Douglas boy, and it is overflowing into the rest of your life." She took a breath, and continued her lecture, "You need to forgive him, or you will never feel confident again. You need to forgive him because he will own your feelings until you do."

"But—but I—I never want to see him again. It will be embarrassing." Fitz countered, determined to be right.

"You think you can just avoid him? He's your next door neighbor for Pete's sake! You'll see him some time or other, whether at school or the flat or walking down the street, and you need to be ready. You're allowed one good cry, and then you have to pick yourself up and be Leo again."

Leo frowned in defeat. Gramsy was right.

* * *

The next day, which was a Saturday, he camped out in front of his door, notebook in hand. He waited all day for Doug to show himself, but to no avail. Not a single Ferguson emerged from the neighboring door. Fitz designed new tools and inventions and electronics until his mother came home from work, and forced him inside, where his grandmother had dinner waiting.

On Sunday, he went to mass with Gramsy and Mum. His nice dress shoes pinched his feet as he sat through the service, thinking up ways to make Doug feel guilty and extract his revenge, an expert forgiveness. He faintly heard the priest preaching from the pulpit saying, "And if your enemy is hungry, feed him. If he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap hot coals on his head."

Maybe Leo wasn't as good at this forgiveness thing as he thought.

As they drove home, discussing the service with their stomachs growling, Leo finally realized what the priest had said. Kill him with kindness. So Leo set out to do just that. He wouldn't make Douglas Ferguson feel guilty or pat back evil for evil, he would simply forgive the villain and move on. Or, _excuse me, _forgive the _friend_.

He didn't even bother changing out of his Sunday best. Fitz walked right up to the Ferguson's door and knocked confidently. Surprisingly, it was not Mrs. Ferguson who answered the door this time. Leo stood face-to-face with his ex-best friend.

"Doug… I forgive you. But you still hurt my feelings." He tagged on the last bit by accident. It just fell out of his mouth along with, "But I don't think we should be friends anymore." Did Leo really mean it? He was surprised by his own words, but from the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks—another thing he learned from the scratchy-voiced priest— so it must be true. Later, he would realize this "break-up" with Doug would quite possibly be one of the best things that happened to him. It lead to many discoveries, more free time, and a less destructive working companion.

"Okay." Doug replied solemnly. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Leo turned on his heels and walked away. His soul, which had been previously weighed down with hurt and anger, felt light again. He heard Doug close the door behind him as Fitz walked across the team's old hallway work-space. Opening his own door to the smell of pasta and sauce, Leo felt excited for some reason, as if a new adventure was opened by that simple, "Okay."


	7. Chapter 7:Beatific Beginnings

Free time. That was the biggest thing Leo found himself with, now that he could count his friends on zero hands. Everything was different now. He spent countless hours in the public library after school, instead of the hallway. He only sketched inventions, and built hardly any. He watched an increasing number of American TV shows, just to brush up on his accents. _The Scrubber _was found at his doorstep one day, broken. The inventions he did make, were better than anything he and Doug had ever made, seeing as Doug's big fingers and tendency to loose things no longer riddled Leo's plans. _The Scrubber _was fixed, and placed back at Doug's door, this time, performing it's duties with little to no sound.

Leo also found himself able to concentrate on school more avidly. No longer did he make silly mistakes and errors, and his teachers began suggesting his promotion to the next grade. Therefore, in the middle of his eighth grade year, Leo became a freshman at Boroughmuir high school. He passed with all A's, and the top of his class. It was the last day of freshman year when he found the flyer that changed his life.

Leo grinned as he took the hour-long walk down the busy streets of Edinburgh to the Leith public library—his second home. Stellar report card in hand, he pulled one of his favorite books on electrical engineering from the taupe metal shelf. The smell of paper and people and summer surrounded him, as he walked to a table in the far back corner of the large library. The wood of the table was chipped from kids digging pens into its surface and carving initials into the table they so often thought of as their own. Even Leo had marred the table with the idea for an invention he wanted to make someday; the idea of little flying robots that did all his work for him, the new Doug.

Opening the book as he always did— hardcover first, then glossary, then page he was to study—Leo found a stray piece of paper in between the cover and title page. It was a hand-written flyer, of sorts, advertising an inventing contest.

_Inventors Contest, June 15th, 2001. Cost: £10. Cash prize, £1,000._

_The University of Edinburgh_

_Old College_

_South Bridge_

_Edinburgh EH8 9YL, United Kingdom_

_Must be 18 or older to participate._

Leo's initial reaction was excitement. Then he realized he didn't have a way to get there, other than walking. He didn't have €10 to spare if he used his allowance to build something, as he usually did. And he certainly wasn't eighteen.

But his other reaction was desperation. He _needed _to enter this contest. The cash prize, while a huge incentive, was nothing in comparison to seeing if he could even come close to an award-winning invention. And who knows, maybe the University would acknowledge his work, invite him to study with them after he graduated. Or what if there were investors and corporations and scouts and... and... he had to go! _But what if I get caught? _He wondered to himself. What if he spent all his money inventing something and entering this contest, only to be told he was too young. He would need a plan, a disguise, and maybe a permission slip from his mum, just in case.

But he was going to enter that contest.


	8. Chapter 8:Persistent Planning

Running a hand through tousled curly hair, and wiping sweat from his brow, Leo was determined to conquer this project and this summer heat wave. The air conditioning in his apartment building had gone out two days ago, while Leo was still in the sketching stage of his designs. The heat had actually given him the idea for his newest invention, sort of. It was to be called the _Ice Ghost_, and shot a small electric current into your body that gave you chills and goosebumps. He couldn't wait until it was finished so he could use it on himself.

Considering his budget, Leo grabbed tools and wires and batteries from where ever he could. Which would explain why the technology enthuse had no working technology in his room. A disassembled CD player lay at his right side and the now broken _ShopKeeper _to his left. Tiny screws and all other little pieces were kept in a shallow bowl right in front of him, ensuring that this project would not be duct taped together. The device itself would be the size of a staple remover, and could clamp down on the pressure point between one's thumb and pointer figure, emitting a faint pulse of electricity that made your hair stand on end and your body cool down. He had to look up the biology surrounding that premise—which took many hours, surprisingly— and decided that his little flying robots would be able to look that kind of stuff up for him! So far, he would need at least five flying robots to be able to accomplish each task deigned for them. Two more whims and he would have seven of Snow White's closest pals. Despite the setback of _not _having these imaginary helpers, Leo finished the first draft of the product with only two days until the contest.

His first test subject would be himself, seeing as he was the only person home today. He unplugged the mechanism, hoping the battery would last more than one use, and carefully placed it between his thumb and forefinger. Clamping down, he pressed the button.

He woke up thirty minutes later, his hair _definitely _on end, with fun little smoke signals coming from each follicle. The air smelled like burnt skin and singed hair and melting metal. Leo quickly opened the back of the device and pulled out the hot, melting battery.

"Okay, so too much charge. I can fix this." He mumbled to himself. Most of his conversation took place by himself these days. He found himself quite agreeable and he held intelligent conversation every day. He liked working alone, much to his surprise. He was his best partner in crime.

And fix it he did. The charge was still too high, even with the smaller battery, and left you with an unpleasant taste in your mouth and a slightly hazy feeling for a good ten minutes. Nothing caught on fire, thankfully, but it still was not performance ready. He lay awake all night thinking of ways to alter his machine for the better.

The next morning awoke the final day of production before the contest's advent. But Leo's bravado would not be squelched. Since his mind had been active all night, he had come up with at least four possible ways to fix the _Ice Ghost, _two of which he didn't have the funds for and the other two that would be harder, but plausible.


	9. Chapter 9:Clandestine Clothing

Leopold Fitz rubbed his blue eyes and yawned. It was nearing midnight the day before the competition, and everything was finally coming together. He had actually finished the _Ice Ghost _sometime around noon, but the hardest parts were making it look good, and making him look older, so he could, you know, actually _enter_ this competition. The first part was easy; he simply fitted the outer part with aluminum he had melted himself with his soldering iron. It took longer than he planned, because the soldering iron was so fine-tipped, but he had eventually ended up with some semblance of an outer-casing and carefully printed the name on the smooth-ish surface. The latter task, however, was proving quite difficult. Because of Leo's bright red cheeks, curly hair, big round eyes, and a baby face he thought he would never grow out of, nothing seemed to work. Drawing on a mustache looked too fake. Wearing his nicest t-shirt looked too juvenile. And adding height to his shoes was just plain obvious. He sat down on his bed, defeated, when his mother knocked lightly on the door.

"May I come in?" She poked her head through. Her hair was frizzing around the edges from working all day, and she smelled pleasantly of the diner where she worked. She wasn't from Scotland, and didn't have the same heavy accent as many other's in the town. "How is the invention coming?" She asked with her delicate British accent- she had moved to Scotland for his father- and sat next to him on the bed. Their relationship had always been tentative. Sometimes he felt like he hardly knew his mom, since she had been out of commission for the first three years after his father died, and working the next five. They would only ever pursue small talk and awkward silence during dinner, which prompted a distractible Leo to think mainly on his next inventions. But even with these faults in the relationship, she was still his mother, and he still needed her help.

"It's actually finished." Leo responded, and then sighed. "I was going to enter it in a contest tomorrow, too. But… I..." He didn't know if he should admit to being technically too young to enter. His grandmother might tell him he shouldn't be dishonest, and not to enter, and he didn't know if his mother would say the same. So he tried to cover, "I want to look professional. I—I want them to take me seriously, so I was thinking I needed to look…" This seemed like the perfect way to phrase it, but he glanced at his mother to see if she looked convinced. "… Older." His mother nodded, and he exhaled slowly, and his nerves seemed to leave with that breath. There was still a lingering feeling of anxiousness, though.

"I understand." She said, and smoothed her hair back, standing to leave. "And I have an idea." She smiled facetiously at Leo, and any third-party observer would immediately notice where Leo got his smile.

She returned after having been gone for about five minutes, having told Leo to wait in his room. She held a nice dress shirt, tie, slacks and even loafers. "Your father's…" she said with a smile on her face, but tears in her eyes. She brought the shirt to her face and inhaled Darius' scent, before handing the dress clothes over to her son. Leo looked appreciatively at his mother and began trying on the clothes over his own. She left for a while so he could get fully dressed. When she came back, she gushed at her little boy. While he had technically hit somewhat of a growth spurt, he was still a good three inches short of for everything. Except the shoes; they fit perfectly. His mother began pinching and pinning the hems of the pants and rolling up the sleeves of the shirt, trying to make it look as if he wasn't _swimming _in his clothes. When she had finished, Leo took off the clothes and handed them to her to hem. When she was finished, the dress clothes didn't look nearly so large, and the shoes gave him a natural lift. The shoulder and sleeves were still a bit too big, so she advised him to just roll up the sleeves. "It gives you the look of a busy and important person." She'd explained. He didn't really know it then, but this conversation and generosity on his mother's part would shape the way he dressed for a good portion of his life, until he met another girl in his first year at a top-secret academy who would do almost the same for him.

His mother had complimented him on how grown-up he looked, and Leo fell asleep easily that night.

**AN: The competition is tomorrow! And if you want it by tomorrow, you ought to review. Five reviews and I'll update tomorrow. The standard two, and I'll update on Saturday, like I had originally planned. Yes, I am unashamedly blackmailing you. Constructive criticism welcome, Flames will be laughed at, then squelched. **


	10. Chapter 10:Interesting Inventions

**AN: You guys do extortion well. We reach a whole six reviews for the last chapter! A shout-out to those reviewers: Ensuing, Pokessassin, Hannibal Smith, and Flute125. And a _special _shout out to my most faithful reviewers: Funnybia and Notapepper. You guys are pretty much the reason I keep writing this story. Well, this chapter is twice as long as any of my previous chapters, so please enjoy! **

The daylight was young—had the lethargic Doug been there, he would have argued the daylight non-existent—when Leo awoke the next morning. He was so excited he hardly knew what order to do everything. He rushed into the kitchen and poured his cereal into a bowl, ran back to his room and put on his slacks, put his invention in his satchel, ran back to the kitchen and poured his milk into a separate bowl, ran back to his room, and put on his socks, ran back to the kitchen and ate cereal straight from the box with a spoon, then gulped down his bowl of milk. Racing back into his room, he completed his ensemble, when he realized—he didn't know how to tie a tie. All his thundering through the apartment had woken up his mother, and she came to his rescue. She twisted and looped and knotted the stretch of fabric around her son's neck. She smoothed it to his chest, and began to cry as she looked into his eyes.

"You look so much like your father…" She pulled him into the tightest hug he'd ever experienced. He didn't really know what to do so he just kept his arms by his side and bounced on the balls of his feet, rocking back and forth slightly. She finally let him go, and offered to ride the bus with him to the University.

They walked up the high steps onto the bus heading north towards the University, she in her waitress garb, and he in his suit and tie. She grasped his hand when his stop came before hers, "Good luck!" She whispered in his ear, and slipped something into his hand. After he was off the bus, he unclasped his fingers to see a £10 note in his palm. Leo grinned as he approached the steps to the grand, old Ivy League, and followed the signs to the registration desk. This was where he really needed to look professional. He pushed a hand through his curly locks and straightened his posture. He had memorized a story as to why he didn't have his ID, and when his birthday was, and the address to his very own flat. The fourteen-year-old stood in line with the twenty to eighty year olds, and realized he didn't fit in one bit.

Everyone held their inventions in one hand, and their proof of birth in the other. Leo began to perspire on his forehead and his hands became clammy. He tried rubbing them on his slacks, but they just kept feeling stickier. There was no way he would get away with this. He could already see people looking at him skeptically.

"Next!" A large, American woman called from behind the long, white folding table. She could have easily used two folding chairs to hold up her wide hips, but she seemed oddly content with her one. Leo attempted to steady his breathing, but to no avail. "Photo ID and invention." She was still looking at her clipboard and writing down notes from the previous contestant. "Please," she added, as if it made her callous personality somehow nice.

"Oh!" Leo said, patting his pockets and searching his satchel. "I seem to have left my ID at home." He hoped it didn't sound as recited as he thought it did. "However, my birthday is December 17th, 1982" He grinned. "I am eighteen." He forced the grin to hold. Unfortunately, she didn't buy it.

"Sorry kid, no ID, no admittance."

"You don't understand!" He pleaded to her, "I've worked really hard on this," he fished the device out of his satchel. "Look, I'm hot and sweaty," He clamped the _Ice Ghost _to his skin. "Now I am temperate and chilled! Try it! You hav'ta let me in!" He was at the verge of tears now, when a man came up behind the American woman. He grabbed Leo by the arm and pulled him to the outside of the building.

"Come back in four years, lad."

Leo shook his arm free of his captor and sat on the steps of the college. All this work for nothing. He crossed his arms stared angrily into the distance. He sat that way for several minutes before he heard a door open behind him. He turned, and to his left he saw a janitor pushing a trash cart out of a side door. Even from here, Leo could hear the commotion and the announcer kicking things off in the gathering hall. Leo stood quickly and snuck to the corner of the building, waiting for the janitor to turn his back and dump the trash. With the hot summer sun as the only witness, Leo grabbed the closing door and slipped into the hall. He didn't have time to take in his surroundings, as he made his way to the front of the hall, where everyone else gathered. There was an announcer on a chair, explaining how the elimination rounds, unbiased judging, and disqualifications would work. He explained how, when you registered, you should have received an application form for your invention, and where then to place it on the table in the back of the room for evaluation. Leo glanced to the back of the room, and started inching in that direction. He stepped on a piece of paper he noticed as the application form he would need. Moving to one of the circular tables set up in the side of the room, he filled out his stolen form.

Thankfully, Leo was able to complete the form and set up his device and the instructions to use it without any question from employees. You weren't supposed to stand by your invention, so as to keep the judging as unbiased as possible, so instead Leo went and looked at other people's inventions. People had submitted everything from broom attachments to electronic helicopters. There were many things people had just re-built instead of inventing their own, which was a basis for disqualification. Leo had high hopes of making it to the next round. He had put his name down as Darius Fitz, his father's name, just in case someone recognized him as the kid who was kicked out. He was looking at a rather odd invention that looked like someone had wrapped tin-foil around binoculars, when someone approached him.

"You like eet, eh?" Said an elderly man with gray hair sticking out of random spots of his face and head in little tufts. "I made eet meself."

"Uh, yes sir, it's very nice… but, uh, what does it do?" Leo tried, while slowly backing away.

"Oooh, eet geeves yuh super-sonic sight, it does!" He picked up the binoculars and placed them to his eyes, backwards. "Wow, I can see yur bones, laddie!" He laughed hoarsely and grinned, showing all four of his teeth, and the sour smell of cheap alcohol curled from his breath.

"Oh... goody…" Leo forced a smile, then added, "Well, I really have to go… find… my… foot." He cringed at the lamest excuse he had ever heard and tripped backwards, then turned around, leaving the man muttering.

"Foot? I ought to find mine too… Where ye at, footsy!"

The inventions making it to the next round of competition were being announced after lunch. Lunch that Leo had forgotten to bring in his nerves and haste. His stomach rumbled, and he wondered if he would have been too nervous to eat anyway. He looked across the room at a man eating a delightful ham sandwich with what looked like pears and alfalfa sprouts… _oh, never mind, I will never be too nervous to eat._ Leo wiped the drool from his mouth and tried looking anywhere but at the delicious lunches being eaten around the room. A familiar scent dropped down beside him.

"Oi, laddy! Didja find 'ur foot? Ey, I can see ya did!" He leaned in uncomfortably close. "Don'ja worry, I won't tell anyone ya lost it in da first place!" He laughed again and a bit of saliva fell on Leo's arm and face.

"_Thanks_," Leo looked away from his seat-mate.

"Ya gonna have lunch or what, lad?" The old man grinned at him, obviously with good intent, but Leo could help but feel bitter. He was hangry—hungry and angry—after all.

"_No._ I forgot to bring mine." Leo looked at the table intently, picking at the grain that stayed firmly in place.

"Ah, that's too bad. Ya want some of mine? I's got fish and chips!" The elderly gentleman pulled out a ratty blue cooler and thermos. He pulled out a stale, half eaten fried fish and soggy chips with catsup stains on the wrapper. As Leo had guessed from the man's breath, the thermos was filled with a strong liquor-based substance.

"I'll pass. I'm really not that hungry." That was probably the biggest lie Leo had told in his entire life.

"Yer missin' out, then. But I ain't hurt by it, more for me!" Leo watched uncomfortably as the man began scarfing down his fish and chips. "Oi, where are mah manners!" He rubbed his palms on his pants and offered Leo his hand. "Da name's Richard, but most of mah people calls me Richy. But don' be fooled, I ain't even close to rich!" He burst out laughing, sending bits of fish and chips across the table, but thankfully not in Leo's direction. Leo sat awkwardly for the next ten minutes until the announcer stood on the make-shift stage at the front of the room. "Dis'll be us, lad. We's gonna make it!" Richard—or excuse me, _Richy_—nudged Leo in the arm. Hard.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for your participation in our contest. We had over one hundred entries this year!" Applause broke out around the room, so Leo joined. "Thank-you, thank-you! This is our third annual contest, and we were overwhelmed with participation and quality this year. However, the difference this year is that some of the guys from IET, Glasgow and Edinburg University are here for judging _and _recruiting!" Even more applause broke out, and Leo looked around, to try and identify the celebrities. It was a dream of Leo's to attend IET—Institute for Engineering and Technology. "Now, let's move on to the part you lads actually care about! Now, with the surprising number of participants this year, we also had a surprising amount of disqualifications due to forgery—works that have been previously submitted, or are already in circulation. Therefore, we took the remaining participants, with only a few exclusions, and promoted them to the next round of judging. The projects moving forward, in no particular order are: _The Broom Assistant, Gildory's Invention, Pen-Sill, ExpertCare, Lighting Remote, Gifted, Hide-A-Way, SearchLight, Retain, Ice Ghost…"_ The announcer continued on, but Leo wasn't listening. He leaned back in his chair, exhaling with relief. He ran his hand through his hair and a smile grew on his face so large, it almost hurt.

"Ey, well, I guess they can't keep everyone, then. I guess I'll just, uh, head home, then. Bye laddy, nice tah meetcha." Richard said, pushing everything back in his cooler and taking a swig from his thermos. Even though Leo hadn't enjoyed Richy's company, he was still a bit sad to see him go, because he had at least been company.

"Goodbye, Richy. Good luck with your next invention…" Leo tried.

"Ey, thanks. But I don't think I'm any good. Not aft'a today." Richard left after that, waddling out the door with his faded blue cooler.

* * *

Leo didn't have time to think too much on his forgotten friend, and went to check out the other remaining entries. There appeared to only be fifteen entries left. The day continued on in almost the same way, minus the balding Richy, and Leo's palms remained sticky until quater finals were over, and semis had been announced. He passed to semis, much to his surprise, and now quarter finals were over, and after the new judges were brought in, semi-finals began. Leo wandered around the hall aimlessly, avoiding anyone with an official lanyard or an "_I'm a volunteer!" _sticker. Just before dinner, finalist would be announced. Leo felt incredibly lucky to have made the cut for both quarters and semis, but finals was something entirely different, and felt completely out of his league. But all he could do was sweat through his suit and wait.

**AN: Same rules apply. If you want an update by tomorrow, five reviews. If you want an update by Saturday, two. If you never want me to write on Fitz's behalf again, zero reviews. Thanks!**


	11. Chapter 11:Fantastic Finals

_Finals. Finals. Finals. Finals. Finals._

Leo wasn't even trying not to be caught anymore. He had one thing on his mind, and it wasn't the oversized American lady across the room. The announcer was stepping up to the podium chair. The numbers dwindled from one hundred, to fifteen, to six. And now only three would make it out. Leo was so nervous his spit felt thick in his mouth; and he didn't have butterflies in his stomach, he had butterflies in his entire body.

But worst of all was the dread. He tried not to think about it. What it would mean if he didn't make it to finals. It meant that he wasn't good enough to attend IET or even this university he was currently standing in. It meant he probably didn't have a future in this inventing thing. And whenever he thought this way, he could feel a cold hand griping his heart from the back. Dread.

The American woman scanned the room as the announcer began congratulating everyone who had made it thus far. The amount of volunteers and employees now outnumbered the contestants, and Leo was finding it harder and harder not to be caught. He spent large amounts of time in the bathroom sketching new inventions, and sunk down in chairs, fiddling with his hands. But with the announcer readying to deliver what could either be the best or worst news he had ever heard, Leo stood in plain sight. And it proved to be a mistake.

"And the three finalist are…"

The American saw Leo.

"In no particular order…"

She squinted at him then whispered to a fellow employee.

"_SearchLight_."

The fellow employee looked in his direction. Leo tried not to make eye-contact.

"_Pen-Sill."_

She began walking over to him.

"And last, but _circuitly_ not least."

General laughter and the American closed in.

"_IceGhost." _

_No way. No way. No way. Run. _Leo's thoughts caught up with him, and he turned on his heels and headed to the bathroom. If the woman of wide girth recognized his invention, he could be disqualified. So he ran. But Leo had never run with so much skip in his step before. The nerves and dread that had plagued him all day melted away to make room for all this adrenalin. His saliva no longer felt like sludge, and Dread no longer brushed his heart with those incredibly cold fingers.

Leo stumbled into the men's washroom and locked himself in a stall, standing on the toilet, and waited for his impending doom.

* * *

Leo stood on that toilet for what felt like forever. But an over-the-moon, fidgety, fourteen year-old who has missed two solid meals can never tell what time has passed. All he knew was that it was late. He was tired. And he wanted to win. So he unlocked his stall and dared to venture out into the competition hall, to see if his potential captors still remained. But when he turned the corner from the washrooms, no one remained. The hall was empty, not a person around. A janitor rolled a trashcan into the hall from the side door Leo had used to enter the competition.

"Excuse me sir, but where did everyone go?" Leo asked, beginning to panic.

"Oh, they are on their way tah the awards ceremony in the chapel. We got people usin' this venue tomorrow, so we had tah get cleanin' it." A pause, and then he added, "And them fancy recruitin' guys wanted to have a nice back-drop for their fancy handshakes and paparazzi, or whatever, I guess." He turned back to his task.

"Oh, where is that at?" Leo was already bracing himself to run there.

"Just exit out these main doors, cross the quad and there it is." The janitor rolled the trash can to the bathrooms, and Leo ran.

Boy, did he run.

He would look back on this moment as the fastest he had ever run in his whole life, desperate to know if he was still in the competition. However, Mr. Janitor had not been completely honest with the directions. Firstly, because the quad was not directly in front of the building, and secondly, when Leo finally found said quad, the chapel was down campus a little, to the right of the quad. _Thank God for signs_, Leo thought. He composed himself, smoothed his tie, and silently pulled open the front door. Peering in, he could hear applause and the voice of the announcer as a man took home a small, third place medal. The room was mostly empty, the representatives from the universities on one pew over to the left, the competitors and their families in the center.

"Would the final two contestants please come to the stage?"

His heart skipped a beat. He scanned the room for the American woman, who he has assumed had seen him earlier today, but she was nowhere to be found. Maybe she hadn't been pursuing him after all, but Leo thought she had looked right at him. A woman around the age of twenty took to the stage. Leo had to decide if he should give himself away and potentially be disqualified, or risk it and win. Before he knew it, his feet were carrying him quickly down the aisle, and up the stairs to the stage. He smoothed his curly hair, which didn't work at all. From the stage, he could see the confused looks of the recruiters and family members, and when he turned to look at his contender and the announcer, he was met with the same familiar stare.

"Excuse me, young man," the announcer whispered, with his microphone to his chest. "We are in the middle of the ceremony, please take a seat." The announcer spoke into the microphone one more, "Would the final contestant please make your way to the stage?" No one stood, and Leo spoke up.

"That's me. I am the final contestant." He cleared his throat, as his pubescent voice broke towards the end.

"How old are you, lad?" The announcer asked.

"Er… uh… fourteen sir. But I had to enter this contest." He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Ah, you're the one Lisa warned me about. She didn't think you'd make it!" So the American lady had told on him after all. "Well, Mr… what is your name?"

"Leopold Fitz, sir. But I submitted my device under my father's name. Darius Fitz."

"So you submitted the _IceGhost_ then?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, Mr. Leopold Fitz, the fourteen-year-old boy," The announcer straightened and began again, "You've just won this competition." The woman, who had invented _SearchLight _, began to protest, but before she said anything, the announcer interrupted her. "However, you do not qualify for entry, and I have no choice but to disqualify you." He turned to the woman, "The winner of the third annual Inventor's Competition is Donna Price, _SearchLight_!"

Leo's spirit fell. All skip in his step sank out through his toes, which dragged on the ground as he ran out the front door, tripping as he went. He ran to the dark, empty quad and sat on a bench to cry. Not long after his pity party began, he heard voices and saw the light coming through the open door on the chapel, happy silhouettes passing in front of it. He pulled his legs to his chest and pressed his eyes to his knees, blocking out the light. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I thought you might want this back." An unfamiliar but kind voice spoke to him slowly. Leo looked up to see a strange man in a suit handing him the _IceGhost _. "Are you really only fourteen, lad? Because you just won first place in a competition consisting entirely of college graduates, and you won it by a land slide. I was one of the finals judges, me and ten other guys. You know the ratio of your win? Ten to nothing, lad." All Leo could do was stare at the man's barely visible face. "I am also a recruiter for IET. You heard of that school?" Leo nodded. "Well, when you finish high school, we'd love to have you there. I'd like to see you kick some ass—or, excuse me— _butt_, of those know-it-alls." Leo could just make out a wink from the man. "Here's my card. Call me." The man handed Leo the card, and stood to leave. As he walked away he called, "With your brains, I expect that call at the end of the next school year, lad."

**AN: Hey, you guys sure are nice when pressured. Like diamonds. **

**Several of you are wondering when anyone from our favorite S.H.I.E.L.D team will show up, and trust me, they're coming. Just around the river bend. After all, Fitz and Simmons were the youngest graduates from The Science and Technology Academy, so they couldn't be too far away! Review, if you feel so inclined, or if you want a new chapter ASAP! Thank-you for your continued support. **


	12. Chapter 12:Midnight Monstrosities

**AN: This is sort of a filler chapter/end of part one because next week I will have little to no time to write or even post. Thank-you guys for all of your kind reviews. A shout-out to Kristiana and Melody Malone, for first time reviews. And a special shout out to MysteryGal5 and notapepper who reviewed EVERY chapter! **

Leo reflected on this twist of fate on the bus on his way home. Sure, he hadn't won the money, the trophy, or the title, but he was just a kid who was already being recruited to colleges. The day really had been full of surprises. For starters, he done a lot more running than expected, he had the card of the dean of admissions to IET in his hand, and had ten quid in his pocket. On the hot, bumpy bus ride home, he pulled out _IceGhost _and just turned it over in his hands, gazing at it with pride.

An outsider looked into a mostly empty bus in the middle of the night. He stamped up the steps, swiped his pass, and observed his company. The bus driver was there, of course, and a man slept at the back of the bus, and a boy sat towards the front, playing with what looked like a staple remover. This kid would be an easy target.

Leo observed his new company, too, however. Uncomfortable with the fact that this stranger was sitting directly behind him, his fidgeting with the _IceGhost _turned into maintenance. He opened the back and began quickly, and what he hoped was covertly, expanding the voltage. He swallowed hard as the driver neared his stop. He pulled the "request stop" line and stood, careful not to fall forward when the bus lurched.

The outsider followed suit. He tailed the boy at a distance until the bus driver and all other traffic were out of sight before he ran at the boy, clamping a hand over his mouth. The boy bit his finger and wiggled in his grip, but the outsider just held tighter, and began to drag the boy in the opposite direction.

Leo kept his calm. He waited for the perfect moment, then reached his hand up and clamped the high-voltage _IceGhost _to his attacker's nose. The man jolted and released Leo, falling unceremoniously to the ground. Then Leo panicked. He let out a small _yelp _and jumped away from his attacker.

"Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygooo—" He paced in circles. "Okay, I really need to go. Home." He grabbed the _IceGhost _from his attacker's nose and checked his pulse. "I am not a murderer, hurray, now I am going home." Again, for what seemed like the millionth time that day, he ran. As he ran, Leo was struck with the resourcefulness of his device, and in that moment, he didn't even care that he had almost been kidnapped he clacked his heals and shouted into the darkness, "I'm brilliant! Brilliant!"

Leo heard a noise behind a dumpster, he told himself it was probably just a cat, but he cut short his celebration and marathon-ed the final block. He ran straight to his apartment building, straight up two flights of stairs, down the hall and knocked ferociously on his door, as he didn't have a key. His grandmother was there quickly, throwing open the door in her night clothes.

"Leopold! Where have you been? Your mum and I have been worried sick!" She grabbed him into a hug, ushering him into the flat, and closed the door behind her. She held him at arm's length. "How did you do?"

"I won…" he paused for dramatic effect, she began to rejoice, but he cut off her celebration. "But I was disqualified for being too young… so, I didn't win, in the end."

"Oh, Leopold! I'm so sorry. All that hard work all for nothing—"

"But it wasn't for nothing. Look." He showed her the card. "He asked me to come study with them next year, if I'm done with high school."

"Well then," Gramsy said, with a sly smile, "You better start studying."


	13. Chapter 13:Finding Friends

**AN/: Thanks for sticking with me through that temporary five day hiatus! I've just been really busy, but I managed to type up a chapter for you guys! And a HUGE thank-you to Funnybia, who has been re-watching AoS and is giving me some fabulous information about Fitz and Simmons!**

The rest of Leo's summer was spent studying and looking forward to September 1st, when school would start again. His inventions were by no means peripheral, however. He wrote up plans for almost a hundred new inventions, filling up two new notebooks with their details, measurements, science, planning, and cost, ranging from snack pulleys to defensive, non-murdering weapons. One problem he ran into continually during his planning was his lack of knowledge of other fields. He needed a chemist for his Isotope Decipherer and thirty seven other projects; an astrophysicist for his World Cuisines Snack Retriever; and a biologist for multiple other projects. His grandmother frequently told him, "You need yourself a biochemist," whenever he came to her for help. Then she would add, "I knew a biochemist once. Boy, was he something." And stare dreamily off into the distance, leaving the fourteen-year-old confused and slightly weirded out.

"Confused and slightly weirded out" became Leo's motto for that particular summer. His grandmother sat him down and said he needed to know a few things before heading to high school, and gave him "The Talk". Then, his mother had a strange man over for dinner a few times. His name was Harvey, and Leo didn't like him one bit, and after he told his mother that, Leo never saw Harvey again. After Harvey came Reggie, and after Reggie left, Fredrick. Fredrick, or "Fred" was a gentleman in every sense of the word. Every time he came over, he brought flowers for their kitchen table, pulled out chairs for both Mother and Grandmother, and had exquisite manners. He even took Leo to a pro football game. But for some reason, Fred stopped coming over. The flowers on their table died, but Leo's mum didn't seem to mind. She tossed them out as easily as she would a tissue, and didn't even cry. Leo was confused, but not really weirded out.

Relationships became kind of strange to him, though. He figured he did just fine without friends or girlfriends; all he needed was a biochemist. And he really wanted that biochemist to be a monkey. Sure, he liked his mum and grandmum well enough, but they were all he needed for now.

* * *

The sun peeked out on the yellowing leaves for Leo's first day of high school, as it did for all the other "first dayers" his age. The only difference was, Leo's first day of high school was also his senior year. Stealing his nerves for the harassment he had no doubt would come, being the only senior still in the midst of puberty. Thankfully, he wouldn't have any classes with ex-best friend Doug, who was still being average in the eighth grade. Senior year held many things Leo looked forward to, and several others he did not, like prom, homecoming, or any other form of dancing; jocks, cheerleaders, and cliques; and anyone who had the nerve to be disrespectful while he was trying to learn.

Which was why he cringed the moment he stepped into the front door.

Wads of paper flew from one side of the hallway to another, girls stood in tight circles giggling and some even brushed their hair. Further down the hallway, in what looked like an atrium, where booths with banners and club names, and in the center, the biggest banner of all was the _WELCOME BACK MIXER AND DANCE! _banner. He tried to ignore the stares he received from kids who were almost twice his size with beginning facial hair. In the atrium and to the left was the office, and to the right was the library. He knew this area would be his favorite once all these pep-squads cleared out. _If _all these pep-squads cleared out. For now, he made a b-line straight for the office. When Leo closed the door, the instantaneous silence over-whelmed him almost as much as the hallways had. Walking up to the secretary, he asked where his locker might be found, and steeled himself to go back into the jungle. As he threw open the door, he whacked a girl in the face.

"Oh gosh! I'm so sorry…" He tried to help her up, but she just pushed him back.

"What the hell? Watch where you're going!" She stared at him hard, then said, "Watch yourself freshmeat."

"Actually, I am a senior. I guess I'm kind of genius or something, so they promoted me." He smiled, but as she raised her eyebrows and began to chuckle.

"Oh, good luck with that one." She laughed and walked off without another word.

_What a great start…_ Leo thought sarcastically.

* * *

His first classes were boring, as is always the case on first days of school. Everyone goes over the same syllabus, and you just sit in a different class room. Lunch, however, would be a different story. His mother had packed him his favorite: prosciutto, buffalo mozzarella, with a touch of pesto aïoli; on a baguette. He hadn't even bothered with the lunch room since he and Doug broke up, so he and his sandwich high-tailed it to the men's restroom furthest from the lunch room for a delightful afternoon. He waltzed right in, sat on a stool and began to open his food, when he heard a light laugh.

"Hello?" He asked, mid bite. The laugh stopped abruptly, and he peered under the doors to see flip-flop clad feet under one of the stalls. Women's feet. Leo suddenly felt exposed, despite the fact he wasn't even using the toilet. "Uh… ex—escuse me… This is the men's room." He gulped, "So, you should leave." The feet stayed firmly in place, as if their stillness insured their invisibility. Leo wrapped up his sandwich, stuck it back in his bag and plucked up a shred of courage to go over to her and ask her to leave. He knocked on her stall door.

"Occupied?" She offered.

"Ma'am… this is the _men's _toilet. Please leave!"

"Sure it's the men's, but _usually _this toilet is unoccupied so I can have lunch in peace. So would _you _please leave?"

"Oh… well… sorry. I'll just—wait a minute! No, I will not leave—" His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. "I will not leave! I get to use this restroom just as much as you do! More, in fact, because I'm a man!"

"Doesn't sound like it."

"How dare you! Well, I will just go enjoy my prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella sandwich, with a touch of pesto aïoli; on a baguette in my own stall!"

"Good! And I'll just enjoy my American and ham sandwich, with a touch of mustard on white bread in _my _own stall, along with my book!"

They sat in silence for a while, before Leo plucked up the courage to say, "What book?" She didn't respond at first, but then said, "I am re-reading _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_ before the movie comes out next month so I can compare them…"

"Really? I am doing the same thing! Do you have tickets to the midnight premier?"

"Of course! You know, J.K Rowling lives in Edinburg, and I am hoping she'll be there."

"I always hope that I'll run into her! I can't wait for the next book, with Voldemort being back and all."

He heard a noise, and she came out of her stall, walking over to his. She looked young, like he was. She had dark blonde hair that was tied back into a ponytail, and was wearing a band t-shirt Leo didn't recognize, and jean shorts.

"I'm Meg."

"Leo."

"You're pretty young to be in the senior hallway, don't you think? Do you want to get egged?" She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

"No… I just… skipped a few grades." He smoothed the wrapping around his sandwich.

"How many is a few?"

"In all? I've skipped five. In a row? Three. 9th, 10th, and 11th." He took a bite, "Whart grarde are yoru in?"

"Ew. I'm a senior, and I skipped 3rd and 4th because they were a breeze." She leaned on the door frame.

"Right? I didn't skip those, but I did ace them."

The chatted like this for the rest of lunch, continuing with conversations about their favorite wizard and then they moved on to their favorite TV shows (Doctor Who, of course, and the some of the American ones Leo watched). When the bell rang, they walked to class together, Meg a whole head taller than Leo, and parted their separate ways only when Leo had to go to advanced Chemistry while Meg went to personal finance.

And that was the inception of their brief but beautiful friendship.

**AN: I wanted Meg to be Simmons as much as the next guy, in fact, I almost wrote Simmons instead of Meg, but FitzSimmons meet at the Academy… **** Oh well. Almost the same rules apply for an update tomorrow. Seven reviews and I'll update tomorrow, five and I'll update Monday, zero and I'll never update again! :) **


	14. Chapter 14:Harry Happiness

November 16th, 2001. The most important day in all of history.

Or, at least it was according to Leopold Fitz and Meg O'Conner.

Because this was the day that their childhood hero came alive. Harry Potter fans flocked to the theatres all across the nation, breaking records for the highest grossing film on opening weekend. People in over 3,000 theatres dressed as the Golden Trio, as professors, as elderly bearded gentlemen, and even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Leo and Meg were among these fanatics. Leo, as Harry; and Meg, as Hermione, had been standing in line at the Vue Cinema since they got out of school that particularly cold Thursday afternoon. Despite their layers of clothing, they huddled together, reading their character's parts from the book in their best British accents. Leo was the best, of course, because he watched Doctor Who regularly and his mother was British. Meg had a harder time, since her Scottish blood ran thick through her veins and her speech.

Around five o'clock, Leo began to realize what he forgot to pack. Dinner. Without any extra cash in his pocket, he and Meg shared a granola bar found in the bottom of Meg's bag, and frowned at their grumbling stomachs.

"Who was in charge of dinner?" Leo asked accusingly.

"I don't think it was ever assigned. I brought the books, the tickets, and the house scarves; and you brought the chairs and water."

"Ugh, whose idea was that?!"

"Yours, actually." Meg mentioned, indifferent.

"I am no longer a genius. I resign my commission." He held his face in his hands.

"Save our place in line, I am going to go find a phone." Meg dashed under the velvet rope and jogged off into the building. Leo waited a good thirty minutes before she came back. "So, the good news is, my dad was home… the bad news is, he didn't know I was here, and was getting ready to file a missing person's report. I guess I'm in a lot of trouble. The other good news is that he's coming down here, and he'll bring food. And the other bad news is that he's coming down here to take me home. So that sucks."

Leo furrowed his brow and thought about begging her to stay, but resolved for, "What food is he bringing?"

"Whatever we have in our cupboard, so probably saltine cracker-and-jam sandwiches."

"Well, I guess it will do."

* * *

Several hours after Meg left, and only two hours until the film started, they finally let the popsicle customers into the cinema. Meg took her chair and the books with her, and handed her extra ticket to a random citizen as she left. As Fitz tripped his way into the theatre, he caught a glimpse of The Woman herself. JK Rowling stood on the other side of the velvet rope signing autographs to people who bought VIP passes. But the wonderful glimpse was all he was allotted, as he was pushed forward into the viewing room, which was just as exciting. The movie began shortly after.

From start to finish, Leo's smile never wavered.

**AN: Sorry this chapter is a filler. The next chapter will not be published until Wednesday so that I can write something with substantial plot! Yeah for plot! His high-school days will probably be pretty short, because I am starting to get excited for Simmons... you guys did this to me...**


	15. Chapter 15:Stylish Sketches

**AN: I know, I know, I wasn't going to update until Wednesday, but I typed out an outline for the next ten or so chapters, so I'll probably be back to updating every other day, if you guys continue to comply with the review rules! ;)**

Many days after the Harry Potter premier and the J.K Rowling spotting, the friends made their way from school to the Fitz household. Leo never stopped recounting the tale of seeing Mrs. Rowling, despite Meg's annoyance and jealousy. She had said her father was over-protective since her mother left them, worrying that Meg might try and find her mother and never come back. Before she left, Meg mentioned this to Leo, and voiced her distress about leaving, but Leo, with the persuasion charms he learned in his toddling years, had been able to exchange Meg's midnight ticket for a showing the next day. Buying himself one also, they watched Harry fly after Neville's rememball together.

When they arrived at the Fitz's house, Leo was animatedly finishing his ever-growing tale on _meeting _J.K Rowling.

"Then, as I helped her up, she said to me, 'Leopold! Thank you for kindness today, and especially for saving me from those Deatheater cosplayers.'" He feigned a swoon, and as he threw open the door to his apartment he continued in his best Rowling impersonation, "'And for your help, I shall name a character after you in my newest book, and they will no longer call it the 'Golden Trio' it will now be known as the 'Leo Trio', with you at its head. '" He closed the door behind him and Meg, and then flopped down on the sofa. "And that's how I met J.K Rowling." Meg sat down heavily next to him, laughing.

"You know, that story gets worse and worse every time I hear it." She said, tears of laughter beginning in her eyes.

"What do you mean '_story'_?This is real life!" He said, giving her a good shove.

"What story?" Leo's grandmother stood smiling in the door frame between the kitchen and the living room.

"Meg doesn't believe me that I saved J.K Rowling from a bunch of evil cosplay-ing Deatheaters! But actually, now that I think about it, they weren't cosplay-ing, they were _real _Deatheaters!" He grinned wickedly at Meg, who pushed him right back and much harder than he had pushed her.

"You know, Leopold, I don't know what half those words mean, and I still don't believe it." She walked over to the giggling friends on the couch. "Now what would you two dreamers want for supper?"

"Meg's never had your prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella sandwich, with a touch of pesto aioli." Leo offered.

"Don't you have a short name for that sandwich, instead of just listing all the ingredients?" Meg asked, then continued, "I'll just have spaghetti, Mrs. Fitz, thank-you."

"Alright, three spaghetti with meat balls coming right up!"

"Three? Won't Mum be joining us for dinner?" Leo began walking toward his grandmother.

"No… she has a date tonight, Leo." Leo's grandmother said hesitantly.

"A date? She's always brought them over here. What's wrong with this one? Am I smarter than him again?"

"No, Leopold. He just wanted to take her out, don't make an ordeal out of it." She glared at him, "Now go entertain your guest."

Leo didn't have time to fester over this development while Meg was around, and he found that he liked being able to forget things that bothered him. Maybe friends and partners weren't so bad after all.

He and Meg sat on the floor of his room, looking over his inventions and sketches.

"Wow, Leo. You really weren't kidding when you said you were a genius. These things really are amazing." She turned to a sketch of a microchip that was to be placed in a gun, that indicated who was allowed to use it. She turned the page again and saw a design for little flying robots that would retrieve things for him. Leo blushed at her compliments and began fiddling with the lace on his trainers. "But your inventions lack…" He stopped, looking her dead in the eye. In his opinion, his inventions lacked nothing but existence. Meg pondered for a while before finishing, "They lack style."

"Wha—what do you mean "_style"? _Miss-Suddenly-I-Know-Everything-about-Inventing? These designs are very stylish. Look, see?" He turned the page to a camera hidden in a pair of less-than-trendy glasses he had sketched. "Stylish."

"Have you never had criticism on your work before, Leo?" Meg asked, visibly confused.

"Well, I mean… Yes. No. I don't know. I've never really showed them to anyone outside my family. And that contest I entered, but that's it."

"In this case I appear to be the only pro. I took a summer class with my mother on stylizing robots. You know, before she left." Meg tried to look her saddest to cover up her obvious lie. It seemed to be working, because Leo looked ashamed for a moment. But only a moment.

"Wait a minute. That's not a real class! How dare you use your life tragedies against me!" Leo straightened his back, and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Okay, okay, so it wasn't a _robot _stylizing class, it was a wardrobe stylizing class. So I am still the expert here. Especially on these very out-of-style glasses."

With those finalizing words, Meg was hired. Leo pulled out an extra notebook for her, so she could go through his inventions, sketching the "cool" version of each one. He monitored over her shoulder to make sure each design was mechanically feasible, and that he approved of the design. Meg went as far back as TheShopKeeper and as far forward as the World Cuisines Snack Retriever. They sat there until dinner, reinventing Leo's inventions. And after dinner, when Meg's father called to say he would be swinging by to pick her up, neither wanted the other to leave because they were having so much fun.

"Goodnight, Leo!" Meg called down the hall of his apartment, her brown ponytail swinging behind her, and a notebook of lovely inventions tucked securely under her arm.

"Goodnight, Meg."


	16. Chapter 16:Birthday Bewilderment

**AN: No apologies for not updating. Its been a rough week. I am going to take another week off. See you in a week.**

Birthday parties had only been a thing Leo did in primary school. Doug would come over with a lame present of which they would both laugh at; they would eat a small store-bought cake all by themselves, and then try and invent something, which would end up with icing all over it from Doug's sticky fingers. So after Leo and Doug had their falling out, he had just stopped celebrating his birthday in the normal way. Sure, his grandmother and Mum still bought the little cake and he would eat half of it, and leave the other half for whomever, but there was no formal party. This year, Leo assumed, would just be the same. Meg wouldn't eat half a cake with him. She was too much of a girl.

Which was why one December day after school, and exactly one week before his birthday, Meg and Leo trudged through the ice with their jackets bundled around them tightly as if it were any other day. Meg shoved her hands deeply into her pockets, huddling into herself to keep warm.

"Leo, instead of going to yours, I think we oughtta go to the library… for homework and such." She said, through chattering teeth.

"No, because then we just have to walk even _longer _in this awful cold." He closed his eyes, as if not being able to see the snow made it any less cold. "Let's just head straight home. Maybe you should go to your house today."

"Oh, come on, Leo!" She stopped walking in protest, "What about we go sledding?"

"'Oh, come on, Leo?' Oh, come on, Meg! I don't want to be cold anymore!" Leo turned around and walked backwards, not giving in to her persistent nagging.

"Okay, we'll go to my dad's flat."

"No. I am going home."

"What if we went to the grocery store?"

"No."

"The cinema?"

"Nope."

"Shopping ma—"

"_No._"

"Leopold Fitz! You are not going home and that's final!" Meg ran up to his slow-moving figure and grabbed his arm.

"Whyyy? I am f—freezing out here!" He tried to pull away, but she held firm.

"Just because." Meg replied.

"Excellent reason, you've got me convinced." He finally freed his arm and continued, "What, are you guys planning some surprise party or something?"

Meg said nothing.

"Oooh, gotcha... Well, I am not too big on surprises, so I think I will just go home before they have the chance!"

"Leo! Your grandmother and Mum have been working rather hard on this." She glared at him, "It's not easy finding guests when I'm your only friend."

"You're not my only friend! I've got at least two others…" He stopped now, looking her dead in the eye.

"Like who?" She taunted him.

"Probably Jimmy, from Advanced Chemistry. We talk every day." Turning his nose up in the air, he began walking again.

"Lab partners don't count as friends. And I think we both know Jimmy doesn't talk back, he just lets you do all the work." She scurried up to him and matched his pace.

"Which I like, because he would probably just mess it up. He's rather daft for an advanced student."

"Everyone is rather daft to you, Leo." They continued in silence for a while before she asked, "Do you think I'm smart?"

Leo was taken by surprise by this question, he stopped to look at her. He could tell her what he _really _thought, and potentially hurt her feelings, or lie to her, and give her un-earned self-confidence. He knew he was far above average, so how was he to weigh "smart" in comparison to the rest of the world? He suddenly felt the cold, previously forgotten in their argument, seep into his bones. He took Meg by the wrist and hurried them into a café nearby. Neither of the pair had any money, so they just found a table out of the way and sat down.

"Are you going to answer my question?" She prodded.

"Yes."

"Yes, you think I'm smart, or yes you'll answer?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Well… uh…" He stumbled over filler words, trying not to look at her face. When he dared a glance, he noticed her suppressing a smile. "This is all part of your plan, isn't it?!"

"Not originally, but you take a long time to answer awkward questions, so it works." She winked at him, and he blushed so red, one would think he had a sun burn in the middle of winter.

They discussed plans and new design sketches for his inventions, they were just settling on a practical one to build in real life when they were asked to leave for loitering.

"So, how much time do we have to kill before I am supposed to be surprised?" Leo asked, as they stepped out into the frigid air, which contrasted greatly with warmth of the café.

"You can go home at five." A beat. "Not that there actually is a surprise party…"

They took the long way home, stopping by the door to throw snowballs at each other. Then they sat in the hallway, like Leo and Doug used to do, just waiting for five o'clock to roll around. When the blessed time finally did come, then threw open the door, and were greeted by a small flock of close friends. Meg's father was there, along with Leo's grandmother, Mum and her date from the previous night, even Jimmy from Advanced Chemistry was there.

"Happy Birthday!" They shouted, mostly in unison. Leo grinned and headed straight for the cake and hot cocoa set out on the kitchen table. The night was filled with laughter, lively conversation, and great food. Everyone had a good time, even out-of-place Jimmy seemed to enjoy himself for the small amount of time he was there.

* * *

The neighbor's to their right and to their left could hear the celebration through the thin walls. While some neighbors stopped by to congratulate and celebrate as well, others stayed firmly in their warm homes. Doug was one of those neighbors. But he sat in his bedroom, which shared a wall with the Fitz's living room, and listened to the commotion. He could tell when Leo was eating half of the cake all by himself, and he could tell when he and his new friend Meg were talking inventions and designs. And he could tell what time it was just because Leo always became tired around the same time each night. Doug listened as the guests left, and the apartment next door became silent. As he sank next to his bed, he sat on something, nearly crushing it. Smiling, he realized what it was.

* * *

As Leo lay in his bed that night, thinking about all that had happened, an almost undetectable noise came from under his bed. He drifted off to sleep, not even hearing when it came back on again. The sound was of a forgotten walkie-talkie, presumed broken by both parties. It fizzled and crackled before coming to life. The sound was muffled, as always, and the quality was poor, but Doug's voice whispered through the static. "Happy Birthday, Fitzy."


	17. Chapter 17:Lamenting the Loss

**AN: Thanks for waiting for me. This week was literally an entire year's worth of drama and other happenings crammed into one week. I am still reeling from the stress of it all. Anyway, this chapter was getting really long, so I cut it in the first place it made since to (making it relatively short), and will just post the next half tomorrow… if you're good reviewers! **

The months flew by more quickly than either Meg or Leo expected. Their conversations, while not always Leo's idea of intellectually stimulating, were certainly light and enjoyable. They discussed their fandoms, new designs, and ideas. And whether they were together or apart, Leo studied. And despite his limited sleep, the fact that he was a fifteen-year-old senior, and his distracted mind; he was passing every class, advanced or regular, with nothing lower than a 99%. All these things combined, Leo was having the time of his life. So when the last week of school was suddenly upon them, he wasn't surprised.

"Time flies when you have fun!" Meg had mentioned ecstatically, though her face gave away her true sadness as she realized she was losing a friend. She, too, was a senior, but that didn't change the fact that she would never be able to attend the same college as Leo. Many of her grades were B's and low A's, though she would never tell Leo that. Despite their close friendship—best friendship, even—this was something she would never admit. The only thing she had on him was age, and even that was only by a year. So, with this inevitable estrangement, Meg took advantage of every opportunity with Leo. She even became a little… _extra _friendly. She hugged him when she left, she grasped for his hand when they watched Weeping Angle episodes of Doctor Who, and she continued winking at him, just to see his blush. If forced, Meg might even admit to _like _liking Leo. But right now, she was _not _forced, and therefor did _not _admit to liking Leo. Not even to herself.

But Leo was both a boy and socially awkward, so he did not notice any of these things, other than the physical touch, which, if forced, he might admit to liking. But just like Meg, he was not forced, and therefor did not admit to anything of the sort.

"Meg, have you thought about what you are doing for college?" Leo asked her on their way to the library on the second-to-last day of school. With the dawn of Leo's fifteenth birthday, his voice was steady. And though it was not as deep as many of the other boys, it wasn't higher than _most _of the girls' voices, which was really all he was aiming for.

"Probably just Edinburgh College. I want to stay close to my dad, he needs me." She responded plainly.

"What about your major? You really ought to consider biochem. I could really use a partner!" He nudged her gently, "Aren't you good at that anyway? I thought I remember you saying you were acing bio or something."

She looked guiltily toward the ground. "Um, I mean, I'm doing okay, but I don't want to make a career out of it, sorry. I'll probably do something like art, because I don't want any marketable skills…" They laughed, but the conversation matter still lingered awkwardly over Meg, as she realized she had been lying to her best friend about something that seemed so silly. She didn't know what she would do without Leo. Probably still be eating lunch in the bathroom and reading the same literature over and over again. This was why she now realized more deeply why she would be sad to lose Leo. Without him, she had no one, and was no one. "You promise to call me?" She blurted, after the long silence with only her thoughts. "When you go to Glasgow? You'll call."

"Of course, Meg! You're still my only friend and, quite possibly, the coolest person in my acquaintance." He grinned at her. "Besides, it's not like I'm likely to make friends there." His grin fell slowly from his face.

"Oi, get over your pathetic self." With this reassurance, she was back to good-old, snarky Meg. "You've got a winning…" she thought for a while, "smile." He gave her that "winning smile".

"Last time I checked, smiling intently at people from awkward distances is _not _a good way to make friends. But don't worry, I'll try it."

"Don't say I never gave you anything. This is my best advice to date."


	18. Chapter 18:Cake Catastrophe

**AN: Remember, seven or more reviews unlocks the next chapter! Enjoy.**

The last day of school was very anticlimactic, in Leo's mind. Graduation was tonight, but the real excitement was for the phone call Leo was going to make when he got home. Every day, Leo placed the IET business card in his pocket before school. It was soft, creased, and crumpled and the phone number wasn't even visible anymore, but that didn't matter, Leo had memorized it the first night. Sure, he had already talked to the Dean of Admissions and his spot at IET was secure for the first semester of summer classes, but Dean Anderson had told Leo to call this afternoon, just so he could congratulate him. Leo was pretty sure Mr. Anderson was planning on attending Leo's graduation, then escorting him to IET the next day. Leo had signed up for summer class because he didn't want to miss a beat when it came to his education. The faster he could learn, the faster he could invent. His mind raced with anticipation of the evening, but Meg broke him from his reverie.

"You ready to graduate?" She hooked her arm through his and gave him her biggest smile. "'Cause I am."

"Yep." He pulled out his sketch book of ideas. "To celebrate, we should make something."

"I agree, let's make a cake."

"Ye—wait what?" Leo stopped walking.

"A cake. You know, one of your favorite deserts?" She grabbed him by the shoulders and spoke slowly, "Cake? C-A-K-E?"

He brushed her off, "I know what cake is! I just… don't know how to make one…"

"Oooh, so The Genius could build a machine to de-homogenize a candy bar, but can't even bake a cake?" She taunted him, and placed her hands on her hips.

"Hey! That is a practical invention because Snickers would be excellent without the nougat." He quickened his pace to hide his blush, and reached the apartment before her.

"Well, this will be something _I _can teach _you_!" Meg grabbed his wrist and dragged him upstairs. When they reached the kitchen, found a suitable recipe for a chocolate cake, and set out all the ingredients, Leo asked, "Wait, do _you_ even know how to make a cake?"

"How hard could it be? You just follow the instructions."

That's where they went wrong. After flower had been scattered across the floor, cupboards, and worktops; eggs dampened the tile floor; and sugar and butter seemed to be in every crevice of their hands; they finally placed a tin full of thick batter in the oven.

"Wow." Leo brushed his floppy, curly hair off his face, streaking flour across his forehead. "Why is making food so _haaard?" _Meg reached over and wiped the flour from his brow.

"It wasn't that bad…" She rested her head on his shoulder. Meg felt Leo tense awkwardly underneath her, but didn't move her head. He eventually relaxed, and they just sat there like that. Leo breathed in the slightly musky smell of Meg's unwashed hair, but didn't mind it. Because it was _her _smell. He would associate that smell with women, unknowingly, and would find himself surprised that women actually smelled good, unlike Meg, his diner-scented mother, and aging Gran. Meg fell asleep slowly on his shoulder, worn out from baking, and Leo followed suit.

They were awoken by Leo's grandmother bursting in the flat.

"What is that burning smell?!" She rushed to the stove, grabbing dish towels on her way over and wrestled the cake from the oven. Leo jumped up so quickly, his shoulder hit Meg in the eye. She cried out in pain, but he ran to his cake anyway. Luckily, she was a tough girl, and followed him over, holding her palm to her bruising eye. "You kids over-filled the pan, and it expanded over the sides!" She looked over at them, only seeming to notice the destruction of the kitchen at this point. "Oh heavens!" She cried, "Leopold Bernard Fitz and Meg What-Ever-Your-Middle-Name-Is O'Conner, you clean this up right now!"

"Anne. My middle name is Anne."

"How lovely, now clean up this mess!"

After the kitchen was cleaned, the house was aired, and Gran had cooled off, they tasted their slightly toasted cake.

"This slice of cake is heavier than an entire Christmas fruit cake!" Gran remarked, as she attempted to cut her slice with the side of her fork. "I might need a knife." They laughed. It probably wasn't that bad. Probably. "Say, what time are you supposed to be at graduation tonight?" There was a moment of panic, before they acknowledged the time, realizing they had a little over an hour to get ready.

"Well, I've got to go. I'll see you tonight, Leo!" Meg called, as she and her slice of cake exited the apartment.

Later, after Leo was dressed in his new button down shirt, tie, and slacks, he called Dean Anderson.

"Hello?" His secretary answered.

"Um, yes, hi. This is Leopold Fitz. Dean Anderson told me to call him today."

"Ah, Leo, yes. We were expecting your call. Congratulations on your graduation. Let me just transfer you to Mr. Anderson."

"Thanks…" He fiddled with the end of his tie. It was the same tie, in fact that he had worn to the Inventor's Competition. He had only ever loosened it enough to slide it over his head, so he would never have to tie it.

"Hello, this is Dean Anderson."

"Yes, hi, it's Leopold Fitz."

"Ah! The genius boy who will be attending IET, Glasgow this year… or in fact, it appears you start next week! Have you worked out your accommodations yet? You are too young to stay in the dorms, after all."

Leo told the dean about his mother finding a new job in Glasgow. It was one she was genuinely excited about. She would be a secretary at a small building company just five blocks from their new apartment.

"Well, I will be driving down for your graduation tonight, just to make the whole thing official. And I am bringing some of the board members with me. They would love to see some of your inventions. Do you have anything new?"

Of course Leo had new things. "What would you like to see demonstrated?" He gave a list of his robots, scanners, molecular counters, and even his Snicker's Bar De-homogenizer—which wasn't actually done.

"Any of those would be nice. Or all of them!" He laughed, "I'll let you finish getting ready for your big night. I'll see you in an hour, Leopold."


	19. Chapter 19:Graduating Greatly

Graduation is supposed to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience that you remember forever. Movies portray the act as magical and enthralling; with the stage set beautifully, the teens dressed smartly, and the parents smiling while weeping pleasantly. Leo soon found out none of these things are true. First off, he was dressed smartly, but it proved the most uncomfortable way to be dressed. It was summer and he was in long sleeves, pants, a sweater _and _a _black robe. _Whose idea was it to place hundreds of sweaty teens next to each other in an outdoor graduation in the heat of summer in _black robes? _Second, his mother and grandmother were _not _smiling and gently weeping. They were bawling and blowing snot wads, saying things like, "You're too young." And "It happens so fast." It wasn't like Leo was dying. Just graduating. And it was entirely unappealing.

Leo sat in the front row, his valedictorian speech in his hands. He wrung the paper almost until it was illegible.

He had seen Meg before the event; she looked lovely in her pale blue dress and freshly washed hair, despite her massive black eye inflicted by Leo himself. Pulling him aside, she had whispered in his ear so the other students wouldn't hear, "Don't vomit on the stage, please." She winked, then took her place with the other "O" last name students.

With this not-at-all helpful advice, Leo continued in his nervous habits. He played with his tie, his many tassels, sashes and other strings and ribbons he earned from being a genius. Meg and his mother had practically written his speech for him, saying that his original speech had been "too insensitive to the other students". Apparently, commenting about some statistics he read about how most people never achieve their dream job and end up unhappy with their jobs was _not _something people wanted to hear when they graduated. He reviewed the new words he was to recite, occasionally glancing up to the bleachers where his mother, Gran, and Dean Anderson and other representatives were sitting comfortably due to a little invention of Leo's. Being the kind kid he was, Leo had left the _Ice Ghost _with his mother, so that they could keep cool; and left a new, safer version of the _Ice Ghost _with the dean and his representatives. He hoped they were impressed.

The ceremony started, and by the time it was Leo's turn to speak, he wished he had kept the invention for himself. He was pretty sure everyone could see his sweat stains on his back as he marched up the stairs. Stepping onto the stool in front of the podium, he began his speech.

"Fellow students, their blessed parents, and, um, everyone else," He tried saying his speech from memory. "Thanks. For being here and stuff. But you know you're here. Hahaha." Stick to reading the paper. It doesn't have any filler words in it. So he did. He talked about dreams, life, goals, and friendships. "The friendships we made here will last us a life time." He said, obviously scripted. But he couldn't help but look up at Meg, who was giving him the biggest and most reassuring smile, which was promptly squelched when her smile reached her swollen eye. Leo continued on in confidence. Until the end of his speech, which met with a general amount of applause.

_Now._ He thought, _it is time for a demonstration. _He reached under the podium and pulled out one of his gadgets, placing it on the front of the stage. This machine is what he called _Box-A-Party_. It was roughly the size of a printer. He pressed a button on a remote, and the box exploded. Not in dangerous shards, but rather with glowing confetti and balloons, sending swirls and bursts of exotic color whirling through the air, contrasting with the blue and white sky and outlined by the setting sun. "Congratulations graduating class of 2002!" There was a general uproar followed by enthusiastic applause and shouting.

Stumbling down from the stage while trying to avoid being hit by the many flying projectiles, he took his seat in the front again, waiting impatiently for the headmaster to calm everyone down for the handing of diplomas. "Thank you for that little display, Mr. Fitz." Leo grinned behind one-hundred other students who came before him alphabetically. He could certainly say he had "gone out with a bang." Literally.

When everyone had received their sheet of paper signifying a job sufficiently done, and thrown their caps in the air in celebration, Leo searched the crowed for his mother. Meg found him first, gathering him in a tight hug. "Great job, Leo!"

"Thanks. Ya' did alright, yourself, Meg." He responded, "And sorry for giving you a black eye this afternoon." He reached out to touch her cheek, but she pulled away.

"Hey, at least you didn't poke my eye out completely. That might have been entirely unforgiveable."

His mother and grandmother found him, Dean Anderson trailing behind. Pictures were taken, hugs given, and congratulatory feelings expressed. And before Leo knew it, the night was over. He and Meg had had their celebratory ice cream; he'd placed his diploma in a box, packing it with the rest of his things.

High school was over.

**AN: .guys. Guess what happens after college? SIMMONS HAPPENS. So here is just a quick poll. Would you rather I do a few (2-3) chapters on college to get to Simmons faster or continue as I have been? Which would essentially mean I would write five to ten chapters on Fitz's college experience. **

**My personal preference is just to write two or three chapters on college. I don't really have much to write about as far as his higher education goes, so I'd prefer to write less. Get to SHIELD Sci-tech ASAP. **

**But as the readers, I am indebted to you, so I thought I'd let you have the choice. Popular vote wins, so don't skimp out on this poll if you are passionate about what you want to happen next.**


	20. Chapter 20:Meg is Magnificent

**AN: Thanks for your participation in the poll, my friends! It appears that Fitz will only be in college for two-three chapters. Which is fitting... oop, spoilers. It was also nice to see who is reading my story and not reviewing... that right, I have your names now...**

**Well, I now have 99 reviews! So as a treat, I will write a one-shot for my 100th reviewer about anything (within my moral code) AoS.**

_I guess this is goodbye, old pal._

_You've been a perfect friend._

_I hate to have to part, old pal…_

_I'll see you soon again._

_I hope that when I do,_

_You won't be on a plate._

_-I Guess this is Goodbye, Ballad to a Cow, from Into the Woods_

"Parting is such sweet sorrow!" Meg quoted, as she helped the Fitz's load the last of their boxes into the moving truck. Packing had ended up being a revelation on how much stuff Leo had under his bed and on the floor of his closet. He found screws for inventions too old to remember and wires he had halfheartedly thrown at the trashcan, assuming he made it. There were even shards of glass and metal, Meg found out the hard way, her foot now bandaged along with her black eye.

"What is sweet about parting? Or sorrow, for that matter." Leo asked, sitting on the fender.

"I… I don't know." She replied.

Today was the day. Leopold Fitz and Meg O'Conner had to part. Sure, they had only known each other a year, but that didn't stop them from becoming the best of friends. Meg wondered who she would talk to without Leo; Leo wondered if he, too, would be alone at IET. Sure, they had promised to keep in contact. Meg even set up an email for him: leo kinz 2 at gmail com . He wasn't fond of it, but it was only for them, right? At least they would be able to communicate.

Meg sat down next to Leo on the fender. He put his arm around her, and they just sat there, ensconced in one another. Neither said anything, not that they would know what to say. They each thought about their lives without the other. Leo wondered if he would find a new partner, or if he could just scan all his designs to her, and she could make them beautiful.

"Hey, Leo." A familiar voice called out. It was Doug. Leo stood up, releasing his hold on Meg.

"Hey, Doug?" Leo asked, confused.

"Um, I just wanted to congratulate you. On your graduation and your scholarship…" He looked at Meg, who came up beside Leo. "And it looks like I ought to congratulate you on your girl!" He said, a smile creeping on to his face. He gave Leo a friendly hit to the arm.

"NO!" Meg and Leo said consecutively. "We're not—"

"He's not my—"

"Friends." They said, unified.

"Oh," he looked between the two, "My bad, sorry. Congrats anyway."

"Thanks?"

"Enjoy yourself."

Doug walked back into the apartment building, his final farewell leaving a lingering feeling of confusion. Then he looked at Meg, and the confusion gave way to awkwardness. "Sorry—"

"Yeah, it's okay. It's not like we—" She stopped, but Leo continued his stammering.

"Exactly. So I didn't think—You wouldn't mind, anyway. It's not—I like you. I _would_ date you. We just—"

She silenced him by grabbing the collar of his dress shirt and planting her lips firmly on his. The kiss was brief and shocking. Meg pulled away, but left her hands on his chest. "Goodbye, Leo. Don't forget to email me. Every. Day." She gave him a playful punch to the arm. "Or else." She backed away as Leo's mother and grandmother approached them, telling Leo it was time to go. But he was frozen in place, staring straight at Meg with wide-eyed wonder and shock. He could see her laughing at him as his mother had to coax him into the truck. Meg waved as they pulled away, imagining Leo sitting in between his mother and grandmother, stiff.

_He'll be back_. She thought to herself. _For Christmas and summers._ Besides, Glasgow was only an hour's bus ride away. It's not like he was being recruited into a top secret technology agency where she'd never be able to visit him.

Yet.


	21. Chapter 21:Collegiate Community

Some would say Leo spent an average amount of time obtaining his degree. He was in college two years, after all. Which would have been normal, had the degree he finished with been an associate's degree. But Leo spent his first year in IET obtaining his Bachelor's. And the next year, Leo transferred to Cambridge, where he received his Doctorate's degree at the age of eighteen.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves here.

Leo had only just arrived at IET. His future unsure but his perseverance unwavering, he stepped onto the beautiful campus of the Institute for Engineering and Technology. He smiled brightly at the world, looking up at the old buildings of the school. The sun shone on his back, warming him pleasantly, while a gentle breeze rustled the elegant landscaping of the campus and blew away lingering, excess heat. All was right in the world.

Then he stepped in gum.

Leo stumbled around, dragging his foot on the cobblestone to attempt to scratch off his sticky passenger. He tripped backwards into the grassy quad, his books falling around him. He stared up into the sky, squinting at the suddenly too bright sun. His embarrassment made him feel hot, the breeze was now insufficient. His perseverance even wavered a bit. Collecting his things and attempting to brush the loose grass from the back of his shirt, he continued his sticky journey to his first class for the day.

He sat through monotonous, redundant introductory classes, as teachers went through syllabi, explaining what they expected from each student and what they planned on teaching that year. Leo immediately resigned to update his schedule for more advanced classes. He had already read about many of the subjects. He silently praised God for CLEP tests. Only one teacher began teaching, therefore Leo decided that was his favorite class. And it just happened to be an advanced robotics class.

"Skill to do comes from doing!" The teacher, Dr. Waikato, an elderly Japanese man, recited emphatically. "Ralph Waldo Emerson said that. Now I say that. This is moto for my class. This is also syllabus. This is also schedule. We will practice, practice, practice. Now. Let us start. Has anyone ever built robot before?" He hardly gave time for an answer. "No? Then I tell you all I know." He began his speech, covering everything from servos, VB Software, and accelerometers, speaking emphatically, enthusiastically, and even in a slightly harsh manner at times. Whenever he asked a question, he moved on too quickly, so that no one could answer. This frustrated Leo, and he listened intently so he could shout his answer when the next question arose. "So, that being said, what does the software allow for?"

"To generate motion-patters, review them and view actual sensor data." Leo said, his voice heard clearly through the room, since he was sitting in the middle of the lecture hall.

"Excuse me?" Dr. Waikato asked, obviously offended. The other students perked up at the change of pace. The room became so quiet, Leo heard the last student finishing notes he may or may not have understood, and then drop his pen. Leo mustered up the courage to answer his professor.

"You—you asked a question, sir." His voice cracked, but he cleared his throat, lowering his voice and steeling his nerves. "I just answered it." He took a deep breath, hoping he hadn't taken it too far. He quickly added, "If—if that's okay?"

"Well, Mister—what is your name?"

"Fitz, sir. Leopold Fitz." There was some laughter from the back of the room.

"Well Mr. Fitz, from now on, if I ask a question, I want you to answer it _in your mind._ I don't know how they do things in primary school you come from, but here we do not do distractions." Dr. Waikato spat the words and stared at Leo for a little, and a small smile tugged at his face. "You are new favorite." He added, the looked back up at the rest of his students. "Be smart like Fitz here. Go far." He continued his lecture.

"Yes sir," Leo replied in unison with the rest of the class, trying not to be too enthusiastic.

When class was over, Leo stayed after, letting everyone leave before him for two strategic reasons. The first was to show his inventions to Dr. Waikato, the second was to avoid any hallway harassment. He approached his teacher.

"You go to next class, I am busy now." He said, as he loaded papers into his worn out brief case, exposing the rarely seen worn wood of his desk only known to exist in theory due to the consistent clutter of paper and robotic tools.

"My next class isn't until after lunch, sir. I was just going to show you my inventions. I had a question on the wiring for the kinematic chains." Leo moved around to the side of the desk, pushing his note book forward. Dr. Waikato slammed his hand on the notebook and gave Leo a deadly stare.

"Fitz, I told you—" he glanced at the notebook under his hand. "Oh, well this an easy fix. See this link? Just compute the actuator forces and torques. You know how to do that?"

And that was how Leo ended up having private tutoring during his lunch breaks. Sure, some of the older kids teased him for being a suck-up, teacher's pet, and a know-it-all in the halls. But Leo never felt offended by any of them. A lot of them were wearing pocket protectors and horn-rimmed glasses. Who were they to talk?

There was nothing more satisfactory to Leo than learning everything he could. His Geometry 110, Physics, and Trig teachers all praised his work highly, and were often times found themselves corrected by Leo, if they made even the smallest mistakes. When asked how he knew these things, his answer was either "Dr. Waikato" or "I read it somewhere". He never felt like the "where" in somewhere was important. All that mattered was that he knew _everything._

**AN: Thanks to the internet, for providing me with these random robot physics terms. I tried to use them accurately as possible, but I'm no rocket scientist… or robot scientist… Review, review, review! Let me know what you want to see more of for Fitz's few college years.**


	22. Chapter22EmailedEpistlesDisastorousDate

To: Leokinz2

Subject: Shakespeare Reinvented

"Leo, Leo! Where for art thou, dear Leo?"

Not even kidding. You haven't emailed me back yet and you've been gone seven months. I feel betrayed. Not really. I've been keeping really busy. I started Edinburg College in September, and so homework has been a thing I do _not _enjoy. You are probably lapping up your homework like craaazy, am I right? (I wouldn't know, because you DON'T EMAIL ME BACK!)

Also, Dad went to the doctor on Tuesday and found out he has wee bit of skin cancer from his crazy days living in the States back in '74. I guess he used to ride his motorcycle across the country and _not _wear sunscreen. So, he'll be getting that spot off soon. Hopefully it all turns out all right. It's not melanoma, so that's good.

So, as I asked _every _time I email you: How are you? What's your favorite class? Have you made any friends? You _dating anyooone? _*wiggles eyebrows*

Also, sorry I kissed you the day you left. I thought it was really funny but it looks like you think otherwise… ha…ha…. Hahahaha. You should have seen your face. It was comedy _gold_.

Will you be back for Christmas Holiday? (And your birthday?)

Love and miss you,

Your best friend,

Meg.

PS. I have been hanging out with that neighbor of yours. Doug. He's pretty nice.

Okay, fine. We went on a few dates. I like him.

But not as much as I loooove you! ;)

Meg

_Sent 12-11-02, 16:33_

To: meg_anne86

Subject: Re: Shakespeare Reinvented

"You have told me to find True Love, and Engineering is her face!"

Meg, I am so sorry I did not email you sooner. I've been more than a wee bit busy with homework and other such nonsense since I've got here. I like my free time, but the professors don't seem to understand that. I'm doing well, despite their efforts to kill me with paper cuts. They are even considering me for early graduation with my BA in Engineering. I am beyond excited.

You should be happy to know that I shaved recently. That's right. I am real man now. I also dress myself now. Tie my own shoes and everything.

Sorry to hear about your dad, however, new studies show that—actually, you probably don't care. To sum it up: He'll live. One in five people are diagnosed with skin cancer in their lifetime. So it's really not surprising. Especially with your dad. He's a tan guy.

Doug? You've been hanging out with Douglas David Ferguson from next door? Well. Okay. I don't even know what to think about that. I'll get back to you later. All I have to say is this: He is still in high school!

I will not be back for holiday, unfortunately. My professor, Dr. Waikato, who is a rather elderly Japanese fellow, is taking his top three students to Cambridge for a trip to the Cambridge Uni Sci-tech labs. I might transfer there for my Doctorates. I sent in my transcript to them just yesterday, actually. I hope they accept.

Bugger. Wish I could be there… but I am really liking the whole experience.

-Fitz (That's what everyone calls me here. It's cool or something. Maybe it's just because it's only one syllable.)

PS I decided I feel negatively about you and Doug… but. :/

-Leo

_Sent 12-13-02, 6:33_

* * *

Fitz enjoyed his trip to Cambridge. He spoke to many admissions officers who were impressed with his credentials and said they would love to have him at their school, even offering him scholarships. He spent the last few days of the Christmas holiday with his family in Glasgow.

Back in school once more, which was just how Fitz liked it, he was working harder than ever to complete his Masters in time. He rarely had free time, and when he did, he liked to take that time to work on his inventions, study, or rest. Which was why he was extremely conflicted when another younger student from his Physics 1101 class asked him to go to dinner with her.

"I-uh, well- the thing is- I-um-tec-but-" He couldn't find a solid word, but finally he shot out, "Sure."

Which was not what he had wanted to say at all. Sure, Lucy was attractive. She had nice hair and good skin, but Leo didn't have the _time _or _money _to go on a date.

"So… I'll meet you at The 78 at seven?"

"I-uh, well, um" He swallowed. _Tell her you can't go._ "Sure." _Dammit, Fitz_.

"Great!" She gave him a bright smile, and touched his arm saying, "I can't wait." Then left the classroom, leaving Fitz completely flabbergasted. And not in a _I can't believe I am going with this girl _way. More like a _I can't believe I couldn't speak and now I am going with this girl _way. Oh well, the past was the past. The next time he'd see this girl was at The 78 at seven.

The 78 was a little café bar in Glasgow's city center. It was furnished with items that were more than likely bought at deceased old ladies' estate sales. The walls were covered with a mix of stone and wood paneling. Leo sat at one of the smaller dark oak tables, and waited for Lily. Or Lilac. Or Lucy. He suddenly couldn't remember. A waitress handed him a menu, setting out a spot for the aforementioned girl, who was apparently running late. The biggest shock for Leo happened when he looked at the menu. It was a vegan restaurant. No meat or substantial food _anywhere_. He groaned inwardly, deciding that letting this girl pick the date venue was the worst idea ever, then his stomach groaned. He was starving, and there was nothing on this menu to eat. Five minutes later, Linda—or whatever her name was—entered. _Speak of the devil. _Leo thought.

"Hey, Fitz. Sorry I'm late. I wasn't finished getting ready." She smiled and sat down across from him, leaning forward expectantly, as if he was supposed to say something next. He raised an eyebrow at her, then looked down at his menu.

"It's… fine." He managed, his stomach growling once more. He pinpointed the cheapest thing on the menu he would be willing to eat. "So. You're a _vegan_?" He asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

"Yes. I love animals, so I don't think we should eat them. Don't you think they are just precious?" She said, her voice light and feathery.

"Yep. They're real gems. But they taste good." Fitz was hangry—hungry and angry—and apparently, that made him brave enough to talk to girls.

"Oh no! Do you really eat meat?" She gasped and put her hand over her heart.

"Yes. Rather frequently." He mumbled, trying to imagine the salad being put in front of him looked appetizing.

And that was basically where the date ended. She teared up a little, and ranted about how meat is murder for the next thirty minutes of the date. When the food finally came, she silently sobbed into her tofu and forest leaves, then left without even a "thank-you" to Fitz. He paid for their expensive—in his opinion, at least—meal, and went home. He loosened the tie he had put on for the occasion, keeping it tied, and hanging it up in his closet. It was the same tie he had worn since he entered the competition that got him here. His father's tie. Fitz had no idea how to tie a tie, and just kept the knot his mother tied. He emailed Meg about the date, asking her if he did something wrong, and why she had to cry the whole time.

Middle school Fitz was right. Girls were weird, he concluded.

When his grandmother came home from her Bingo night at church, Leo recounted the whole date, and asked her the same questions he had asked Meg.

"Oh, Fitzy." She started, "Girls like it when you compliment them. And agree with them."

"I just don't think I could ever hold an intelligent conversation with anyone except Dr. Waikato." He confessed.

"Oh, don't worry Leo. You'll find someone who is just as smart as you are. Maybe even smarter. If that exists…"


	23. Chapter 23:Moving Along Monologue

_Hinc lucem et pocula sacra._

The non-literal translation of Cambridge University's motto is this: From this place we gain enlightenment and precious knowledge. The literal one had something to do about light and draughts or potions, but Fitz couldn't remember. He liked the non-literal translation better.

His graduation from IET had been much like that of his graduation from high school. He was, of course, valedictorian, and gave a stereotypical graduation speech and ended by using a pyrotechnic invention of his that shot of tons of fireworks, and accidently short-circuited the entire campus with the electricity it had generated. Sure, he had calculated the wattage needed to run the machine, and there had been the chance of this happening, but he had hoped for the best. However, since this was an engineering school, the lights were back on by the end of the elaborate display, and in time for the handing out of the diplomas.

Afterwards, he hopped on a bus to Edinburg and visited Meg, celebrating by baking a cake and eating ice cream. Doug came over an enjoyed the ice cream with them and Fitz thought he and Meg sat a little too close for his liking.

Meg and Leo's relationship was different, however. They were friends, yes, but no longer _best_ friends. More like cousins you hardly see, but are inclined to be nice to, just because you're related. But as Fitz got back on the bus to Glasgow, he left that life behind him. Sure, he and Meg would communicate digitally for a while. But slowly and surely, they emails would be less wordy, less frequent. The effort would be strained, and despite their closeness as friends, the relationship would be let go. Fitz could never pinpoint the moment it happened, not that he really even tried. It was just over.

But since it was such a natural ebb, he had no broken heart. He married his work and education. Cambridge had excellent experiment labs, and Fitz came up with all kinds of different inventions, even bring up some sketches from his youth. The litter of flying robots to assist him with his work was his top priority. For three days he worked on a demo version, with little-to-no sleep, and only taking breaks to attend his classes. Sure, he sloughed on his homework a little, but he could catch up later. He was so consumed by his thoughts that he missed seeing a girl he would soon come to know as well as himself. They ate lunch at the same time, but she had her head in a book, and he had his nose to his notes. They passed each other in the quad twice, but he was fiddling with joint servos on his robot, and she was thinking to herself.

They didn't graduate together, however. She finished her studies a semester earlier and opted to receive her diploma for her second PhD without formal ceremony, and went to work in the lab facilities.

So Fitz graduated Cambridge with his PhD in engineering and was valedictorian yet again, and Simmons stayed quietly in the lab that night, trying to tune out the noise of the rowdy graduation ceremony.

**AN: A little monologue chapter. You guys know what's up next... **


	24. Chapter 24:Recruited

"We're flattered, as always, that you chose our school for your selection… but…"

"—But what? Would you like us to move our recruitment program elsewhere?"

"No! We are honored that our top students are given such an opportunity; it's just that… that it looks bad for us. Since you are a secret organization, it looks bad for us. Since our top graduating students in many of our fields appear to have amounted to nothing. They can't come back and give commencement addresses or talk about their work. You understand my reluctance in handing over some of our brightest students yet?"

"Would you prefer our _world _be less safe to maintain the integrity of your university, Chancellor?"

"Of course not, Director. But could you at least allow the university the right to publicize a vague statement about these kids? They're our best students to date. They can't fade away into oblivion like others before them. I have wordlessly allowed your organization to recruit my students for a decade, Director, but now I wish for a chance for recognition. To let our prospective students know the importance of the alumni of this school. Surely you understand?"

"Oh, I understand just fine. And since you have been in cooperation with us for so long, you should know by now that this is not a debatable subject. The public will never be ready to know about the real dangers in this world."

"Of course, Director. It's just—"

"The students, _please._"

"Oh my! There is no need for violence, sir. What are you looking for? Computer sciences, engineering, natural sciences?"

"Bio-tech. We need some real geniuses for a new project we're working on."

"The kids I was talking about earlier, one is engineering and the other is biochem. Will they do?"

"Just two kids? Don't hold out on me, Chancellor."

"I'm not, trust me. They're only eighteen; but the girl has two PhDs and the boy just graduated with his, even though he's only been here a year. Please put the gun down, Director, I am cooperating!"

"This isn't a gun. It's a highly sensitive lie detector that _looks_ like a gun. I thought it was a worthless invention, but it's proving it's worth now. I'll take the kids. Tell them they've been drafted. Give 'em the usual speech."

"Of course, Director Fury."

"Give a round of applause for the newest Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D."

**This is short, but I love it. It's the turning point in the story. At least ten reviews for the next chapter! (and guess who will be meeting who in it?)**


	25. Chapter 25:Salutations, Simmons!

"_What_ the _hell._"

Fitz had never been in plane before. Nor had he been to America before. And, if he was being completely honest, he wasn't exactly sure _why _he was in aforementioned private jet headed to America.

So it would certainly be an understatement to say he was nervous.

"Would you like another drink sir?" The cheery flight attendant asked, her face fell slightly when she saw the state of her passenger. "Perhaps a ginger ale?" Fitz rubbed his face and looked up at her.

"May I actually just speak to the Director? I am still really confused." He put a hand to his mouth and added, "And that ginger ale would be welcome, too."

"Of course, Mr. Fitz." She walked away, hips swaying, as if this were solid ground. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his khakis and smoothed the collar of his plaid, button down shirt. His hair was long, after having gone to Cambridge without the incessant fretting of his mother and grandmother—the latter became too ill to travel—it grew down to his eyebrows, flopping over his face and becoming a general nuisance. But Fitz didn't have time for a haircut, and just opted out of the notion entirely.

"Mr. Fitz," A deep voice beckoned behind him. Leo's seat on the private jet rotated around so he could face the director. "You asked to see me?" A small smile crept onto the director's face, pinching the calloused skin around his eye patch, making him all the more intimidating.

"Uh, yes. I still have questions about… um…" Fitz discovered he could never finish a sentence with this man if he dwelt too much on what happened to the director's eye. "Aliens." Which was, of course, the most logical scenario Fitz had come up with on how the director lost his eye: An alien knife fight, three guys—no, five—and one Director Fury. Long story short: Director Fury only lost an eye. You should see the other guys.

"What about them?" He asked, sitting across from Fitz. The Director was patient. He must do this a lot, Fitz thought.

"Well, I guess the biggest thing is: why don't we know they exist already? If they, uh, threaten our very lives every day and all…"

"Because S.H.I.E.L.D does its job. And now you and Miss Simmons get to be a part of that."

He beamed with pride for a while, reflecting on how his childhood dream of becoming the Doctor seemed to be unfolding. Then he began to wonder about his family. Would he ever see them again? Could he still talk to them? Was he still going to be an engineer? Then, as if Director Fury had read his mind, he said "Don't worry. Your family is being told that you have been recruited by the MI6 to be an engineer. It's better they think that than know S.H.I.E.L.D exists. You'll still be able to contact them; you just can't talk about work." There was silence for a while. "If that's all you need to know, I still have to debrief Miss Simmons. She still thinks she's been asked to speak at the Biologists' Association tomorrow." He laughed.

Leo's mind wandered. He thought about his inventions. The other agents on the plane had described the labs and facilities to him, and Leo was beyond excited to work on his inventions with the technology already possessed by this agency. His mind briefly wandered to the other recruit. Miss Simon? He couldn't remember. He was too excited to think about much else.

"Welcome, new recruits, to the S.H.I.E.L.D Science and Technology Academy!" Fitz glanced at the other new students around him. About twenty, in all, they all possessed an aura of intelligence that Fitz appreciated greatly. There was a cluster of Asian scientist in their mid-twenties off to one side— they had apparently become friends on the jet ride over; two older gentlemen from Germany, occasionally commenting to one another in their native tongue; a group of American women all dressed similarly; a pair of nuclear scientists from Iran; and a girl Fitz's age in jeans and a cardigan, standing off by herself, taking in the view, just as Fitz was. And rightly so, for the architecture and schematics of the facility was a new kind of beautiful to Fitz. The labs were heaven and the tools were ambrosia. The access to any equipment and supplies he might need left Fitz dumbstruck; and by the time he was escorted to his room, all he could do was stare at the ceiling, as he lay in his bed. He pinched a spot on his arm raw, just to make sure it wasn't a dream.

It was not.

When he finally came to, he looked about his simple dorm room. There was only one bed, which meant no roommate, a wooden desk in the corner and matching wooden dresser already filled with his clothes. Leo thought these dorms were oddly ordinary, considering the elaborate décor of the rest of the facility. But he didn't mind. He figured he would be spending all his time in the labs anyway. He hardly slept that night.

His first week at the Academy could be considered uneventful, to a third party observer. He didn't make any friends, for he was too busy learning and taking in his surroundings. He didn't do anything dramatic or invent anything new. He was too busy to be eventful.

The second week, however, changed his life forever.

It started much like the first, though he began to realize that "Alien Psychology" and "Extraterrestrial Sociology", classes he had enrolled in purely to learn more about aliens, were not classes he cared to take, because they involved too much _feeling _and not enough _thinking _for Fitz's liking. So, on a whim, he signed up for Cooperative Sciences, and a spot became available in a class he had wanted to take since he arrived here: Holographic Engineering.

Fitz passed by the cafeteria on his way to Cooperative Sciences, not really paying attention to who was walking around him. Which was how he accidently ran into the girl in front of him, then consecutively tripped over her.

"I'm so sorry!" He called, as he twisted over to see his victim. It was the pretty girl from his tour group. "Oh, I… uh…"

"It's alright," She said, her British accent immediately caught Fitz's attention. It was clear and lovely, and reminded him of his mother, who had been British.

"You—you're from England! I haven't met anyone else—" He stumbled for words as he helped her gather her books and papers from the ground.

"Me neither. You're Scottish?" She guessed from his accent. Fitz nodded and grabbed the remaining books from the ground. He looked at the titles of the books he held in his hands: "Alien Biology for the Intermediate Student" and "Advanced, Advanced Chemistry for Advanced Students". She saw him pause before handing the books back. They stood up.

"What are you studying?" He asked, surprised at his own confidence with this girl.

"I'm biochem. I graduated from Cambridge with my second PhD last semester. The Director said they needed scientists for a biotech project. " She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and straightened her books. Fitz just stood there, staring. She was a biochemist. And British. Perfect. "And you?"

"Engineering. I, uh, I graduated from Cambridge this semester, too." He straightened his backpack.

"You do look familiar." She said, quizzically, then glanced at her watch. "Oh, I have to go. I don't want to be late for my next class."

Fitz began to watch her leave, before coming to his senses and following after her. She was going in the direction he needed to go anyway. "What is your next class?" He asked.

"Cooperative Sciences. I figured it would be a good place to start this biotech objective."

"I've just transferred to that class! I was in Alien Phycology before. Too many feelings." She laughed and turned to face him. They were in front of the Cooperative Sciences building now.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"I'm Le—Fitz. Just call me Fitz."

"I'm Simmons, Jemma Simmons."

**AN: Not going to lie, I was a bit disappointed in the reviewing and reading numbers for the last chapter. Let me know if this story is boring or needs other changes, I'd be more than happy to accommodate. Those reviews don't have to be just positive things. I love constructive criticism, and I would be happy to take your suggestions.**

**HUGE thank-you to Disney-fied, Jewelz1642, and Cokeer, who reviewed the last chapter!**

**AND Thank you to funnybia, who did a lot of research for me, and can be credited with a lot of SHIELD Academy knowledge. **


	26. Chapter 26: Teachers, Ties, and Tests

**AN: Hey. So, school is starting again, so I'll only be updating once a week now. Thanks for the surge of reviews last week. It really helped! If you see any problems with Simmons' character, PM me or leave a review. I really want advice on how to write her.**

"Welcome…" The professor breathed. "To another day of Cooperative Sciences." He sighed, obviously having given this lecture many times. Fitz looked to a nearby table where his newly acquired friend sat with her pre-assigned partner. Fitz wished he had taken this class from the beginning, so he wouldn't be sitting by himself at the lab table furthest from the front. That was one of the main drawbacks of going to a school of over-achievers; everyone struggled for a spot in the front. He drew pictures with the condensation from his water bottle on the smooth, black surface of his desk, waiting for the professor to continue his lecture. From what Fitz had heard, this class had been instated five years ago, when Director Fury needed a device with two complicated forms of science, and the two scientist chosen had trouble working together. They had successfully built the contraption, but with little alacrity. Since the inception of Cooperative Sciences, only two teams had gone on to be successful field agents building on-site necessities for S.H.I.E.L.D. One of the teams had just retired this year, after only two years in the field, because of how strenuous the work proved to be.

"Please confer with your partner about the following question," Professor Geoff droned on, "Imagine you are at the scene of an explosion. The bomb was made using Pu-239. If the half-life of the plutonium had not yet been reached, and the building is entirely gone, use the dimensions of this building to discover where the bomb was placed." He sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time in this class period. "Find out how to re-create it, and what planet it was from."

Leo looked around the room, trying to see if there was anyone else without a partner. Of course there was no one. He walked up to the professor.

"Excuse me, uh, Professor Geoff?" Fitz cringed when the professor looked up at him.

"What?" He glared.

"I, um, I just transferred to this class and I have yet to find a partner." He glanced behind him at the other students, listening to their conversations while waiting for the bored professor to reply.

"Name and field?" Professor Geoff said, bringing Fitz back from his reverie.

"Oh! Oh, um, Leopold Fitz. Yeah, L-E-O-P-O-L-D," He leaned over the desk as he watched the professor type his name into the advanced screen that made up the surface of his desk. "PhD, Engineering."

"Engineering, eh?" The professor suddenly became interested. "I'm in engineering myself. I graduated top of my class at the S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, but I haven't got any imagination, so I decided to teach instead. But my field was full, so I'm teaching this waste-of-time class." Professor Geoff seemed to notice Fitz's growing look of reproach. "But maybe you can make it in this class. Aren't you one of the new recruits? Youngest ever, so I've heard. You and Miss Simmons over there."

"Um, yes, something like that." He glanced behind him at Jemma Simmons, who was finishing up her assignment already, her elderly partner looking slightly confused. "So, do you have a partner for me?"

"Yeah," the teacher slipped back into his melancholy drone. "I'll rearrange the students who aren't working well together, and put all the slackers in the same group, so no one has to put up with them."

"There are slackers at S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Fitz asked, wondering how, in a room full of geniuses, you could even identify a slacker.

"Sure. They're the ones who are nearing retirement and smell like dehydrated fruit. Excellent minds, no doubt, but sluggish."

_Fitz's next class, Holographic Engineering, proved more productive. Jemma Simmons was in this class as well. Walking over to where she was sitting he asked, "Is, is anyone sitting here?" _

"_No, no one is sitting here. Join me!" _

"_Okay, thanks. Hey, did you hear about latest expedition of the Census of Marine Life? Over two-hundred new life forms… pretty exciting, huh?"_

That was how the conversation played out in Leo's mind, but when actually executed went a little more along the lines of:

"_Ex—excuse me, is, is anyone sitting… behind you? I mean, next to you? I mean here?" _

"_Yes, sorry."_

"_Oh. Sorry. Yeah. Of course. Sorry. Bye. Sorry." Fitz muttered, as he tripped over the other students while exiting the row._

Which was why he was now sitting in the only available seat in the back of the class, furthest away from the holographic table used in the front for demonstration. But by the end of the period, Fitz decided holographic engineering was his new favorite class. Being closest to the back, he was the first one out the door. As he left the class, he decided that making friends was too stressful, he needed to relax. He needed to go to the labs and tinker with something. He needed to talk to voice-activation interfaces instead of real people.

Leo tinkered well into the night; putting to use his mind in the creation of seven quad-copters he called "D.W.A.R.F.s". However, some of the science behind their ability to perform to their full capacity was beyond him. Fitz looked forward to having a partner from Cooperative Sciences who would, hopefully, be able to understand him. Pondering this at three thirty in the morning, he fell asleep on a chair in the lab.

When Fitz awoke, he was vaguely aware of where he was and had a terrible crick in his neck. He glanced at his swore mentally as he rushed from the labs, D.W.A. in tow, and back to his dorm to change for the day. In his haste, he accidently untied his father's tie; casting is unceremoniously on his floor. He threw open his dresser, in hopes of finding a clean shirt, but it was oddly bare. He looked around his room with comprehension this time, realizing _all _of his personal belongings were missing. "What the _hell?" _He opened his door, peeking into the hallway, but no one was there. He dared not venture into the hallway shirtless, and backed into his dorm, collecting himself. "Okay. You're a freshman. It's probably some prank. Phfft, yeah. A prank." He calmed himself. "Either way, you still have to get to class, preferably clothed." He put on his button up and grabbed his tie from the floor. Putting it around his neck, he tied it the best he could, a double knot, and smoothed it down. Walking to class, he heard the snickers of the senior students who had pulled this prank on his unshowered and unwashed person. He tried to hold on to his pride, but the crinkled shirt and poorly knotted tie he had slept in did not allow him much.

His first class of the day, Professor Vaughn's _History of S.H.I.E.L.D_, was not entirely embarrassing, since he could select a seat in the back of the class and sleep through the lecture for the day. Professor Vaughn had written the book _History of S.H.I.E.L.D _many years ago, and insisted on teaching it at the Sci-Tech Academy for the past fifteen years. In most recent years, however, with his memory failing on the extra details and fun stories, he just read a chapter straight from the book each day in his gravelly voice, making napping an easy task.

His next classes, however, did not offer him the same mercies. Cooperative Sciences being worst of all. When he arrived at the building, everyone was standing outside the door restlessly. He spotted Simmons in the back of the group, reading a book. Temporarily forgetting about his appearance, he walked up to her. "What's going on?" He asked.

Without looking up, she answered, "Professor Geoff has decided to reassign partners and hasn't finished his list yet. He demanded we… wait…" She began trailing off as she began reading her book more intensely. "…Outside…" Fitz leaned over to look at her book. _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, _it read. He smiled to himself. He had read the book twice already, and could tell what part she was at with a quick glance. He was about to comment about it, when Professor Geoff greeted the group at the door.

"Students." He said without emotion, "I have rearranged your groups, since none of you were able to come up with an adequate answer to yesterday's question. The groups are as follows: Liesel/Abbot, Cho/Durms, Kinder/Zalaquieth, Henson/Chang, Fitz/Simmons, Shirazi/Giv, Zenith/Quasar and Grundtal/Smith/Hitzig. Please sit at your respective tables and continue to work on the problem from yesterday."

Fitz glanced nervously at his new partner, who was still thoroughly engrossed in her book. When she mechanically sat down in her usual seat, Fitz followed; sitting next to her but looking everywhere _except _her. Eventually she put down her book and looked at him. "Sorry, I am not usually… It's just, I haven't read it yet and…"

"No, I understand, I didn't even attend classes the day after it came out." She laughed, and then seemed to take in his appearance for the first time.

"Oh, you're from yesterday! The boy who tripped me…" She said with a smile on her face.

"Uh, yeah. Ha. That's me." He looked down again.

"Are you wearing the same clothes from yesterday?" She asked.

"Eh, yeah. Freshman prank. All my stuff was stolen." He looked at her, "SO, do you want to get started on this project or what? I already have some great ideas."


End file.
